


The Outlaw God, Chapter 1

by vaarion_png



Series: The Outlaw God [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M, RDR2, Wild West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 22:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaarion_png/pseuds/vaarion_png
Summary: Friends come from the unlikeliest places. In 1899, A god of mischief from far far in the future finds his friends in a gang of twenty four— and now twenty five.





	1. Part 1 of Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue (0r epilogue?):  
My name is Dutch Van der Linde.  
And I am dead.  
Not metaphorically or rhetorically, but literally.  
And if you don’t know me, then boy have I got a story to tell you.  
It was the late eighteen hundreds. I formed a gang. We stole a lot of money, made a hell of a lot of trouble, had the law on us after we stole 150,000 dollars from the state of Blackwater, and picked up a few new faces. It seemed like all was going well, but in essence, I screwed up. We did. He did.  
It wasn’t all my fault. I do take some of the credit, but even I don’t believe it was all my fault. I asked for faith, and loyalty, but all I got was doubt. Apparently they needed a new face that they couldn’t doubt. They were all wrong, and so was I.  
I should have realized that things were going downhill ever since Guarma. I should have done something about it, but I let my guard down and let an outsider take control of my people. But I would be foolish to blame it all on me. My members should have seen through it all, but I couldn’t have faith in them when they never had faith in me.  
This is the story of the van der Linde gang. And it went all wrong with a bullshitting bastard by the name of Loki.  
And we all fell for his tricks.

Chapter 1;

Horseshoe Overlook

After the failed robbery in Blackwater, The Van der Linde gang camps north, and after robbing Leviticus Cornwall, they temporarily settle in a spot just outside Valentine called Horseshoe overlook. It’s a small clearing surrounded by forest, overlooking a small river. The horses are lined up against the tree line, and the gang’s tents are scattered throughout the clearing. Dutch Van der Linde rests placidly outside his tent, reading. Meanwhile, Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, Bill Williamson, and Charles Smith cause trouble in the Valentine saloon. 

Chapter 1, part 1:

“Pretty boy?”  
“Are you kidding me?!”

“PRETTY BOY?!”

My face was smeared with mud and blood. I got to my feet and faced my foe, which was of a thicker build than me, but I didn’t let that distract me. My head was pounding with agony and anger, which fueled my first punch. It found its target’s face, which growled in pain. I threw another punch, this time landing in his palm, and he threw another one back at my face. It was a downright brawl. The town was watching, some in terror, others with that young, insane look in their eyes.

The other man grasped my throat, and I immediately brought down my head, making violent slicing motions down onto his arm. Eventually he let go, stumbling backward, giving me enough time to launch myself forward, pinning down his arms and repeatedly hitting his jaw hard, over and over and over again. 

“STOP! Surely that’s enough?!”

I gave the man one final punch and I felt his hand gripping my arm weakly go limp. He could be dead, but I didn’t know or care. I let go of his shoulder and limped over to the side of the general store, where I leaned against the wall and took long, drawn-out breaths. He got what he deserved for attacking Charles, throwing me out the window, and calling me a pretty boy.

“So, making friends already, are we?”

I turned my head to see Dutch walking toward me, accompanied by none other than…

“If it isn’t Josiah Trelawney!” I announce, nodding toward him. My face and clothes were still soaked in mud, otherwise I might have touched him. 

“Hello, Mister Morgan!” he says, tipping his hat. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“What have you been up to?” 

“Traveling around, renting.”

“He’s a slippery little feller, alright.” Dutch says, patting him. “Did you manage to get anything done, other than already cause a fair bit of trouble?”

“Don’t be like that, Dutch. We didn’t even plan to get anything done, especially with Uncle comin’ along.” I say.

“Well then. You should wash up. I’ll take the women back to camp, and if Josiah should choose to stick around--” Dutch began.

“No, but I have things to attend to. And I won’t bother telling you what kind of things.” Trelawney dismisses. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

“Feel free to stop by, I suppose.” Dutch suggests. “Arthur, please. Do get yourself cleaned up. Meet us back at camp soon, we’ll be waiting.”

I nod to Dutch as he gets on the wagon with Karen, Uncle, Tilly, and Mary-Beth. I walk across the street and get a bath at the saloon, bumping into a man on my way out.

“Sorry.” He apologizes. He doesn’t look up, but just walks straight upstairs without looking back at me.

“He’s a strange feller, that one.” The manager comments. I look over at him, tempted to ask something. I look up at the upper floor railing, and the stranger is back, looking down at me. I get a closer look at his face. He reminded me of Dutch, but perhaps a younger version of him. He had a young, clean shaven face with high cheekbones. His black, pomaded hair was slicked back so that it fell onto his shoulders.

“Are you ok, sir?” he asked me. His attempt at an american accent was good, but I could hear a british tone seeping through. 

I nodded my head at both the stranger and the manager. “Good day to you.” Without looking back, I left the store, a strange feeling settling into my stomach. 

I mounted my horse and rode back to Horseshoe Overlook, checking every few meters to make sure I wasn’t being followed. I kept an inconspicuous profile as I trotted through the trees and hitched my horse outside camp. I dismounted, and walked over to grab myself some of Pearson’s stew. 

“Like the new place?” Hosea asked me.

“Beats freezing our balls off up in the mountains.” I chuckle. “It is a nice place though, joking aside.”

Hosea sipped his coffee. “I heard you already got into some trouble in Valentine, eh?”

“It was Charles who started it.” I say. “I finished it, because Charles was apparently not strong enough to do so.”

Hosea smiles. I finish my stew and walk over to Dutch’s tent, where he’s reading a book quietly.

“Ah, Arthur! I was wondering if you could have a word.”

“I guess I’ve got time.” I say, sitting across from him. “What is it?”

“Well, about the O’driscoll in our camp.” He starts. “We have to do something about him someday. Bill has some ideas to make him talk but they might be too severe even for me.”

“I didn’t know a torture method too severe for you existed.” I joke.

“How heartless do you think I am? We have lines I’d rather not pass.”

“Did you pass them in Blackwater?” I ask, smirking.

“Blackwater was an unfortunate… accident, for want of a better word. Let’s hope we don’t have another scramble like that one again.” he dismisses. “Anyway, back to our friend Kieran. I’d like you to confront him when you can. Herr Strauss would also like to see you, there are some fellers who haven’t paid back their debts.”

“I’ll see what I can--”

“Put your hands up!”

Dutch and I stand up immediately, placing our hands on our revolvers. “What the hell…” he mutters.

Karen appears at the tent flap. “Dutch, you’re gonna want to see this.”

“What the hell is goin’ on?” He demands.

“Some stranger, doesn’t look too intimidating. Not sure what he wants.” she explains.

Dutch takes his hand off of his gun and nods to me. We walk outside, and find a familiar face standing right inside the clearing, hands up. Lenny and Bill both have their rifles out and pointed at him.

“Hey guys.” he greets nonchalantly. He’s still dawning that silly sounding American accent, which, despite having heard it only for two seconds, was starting to get on my nerves.

“What do you want?” Dutch demands, walking up to him. “What’s your name?”

The stranger looks up at him. “Mister… Van der Linde, is it?”

Dutch doesn’t respond, but merely looks over at me with an inquisitive look on his face.

“Your face is plastered all over Blackwater, mind you.” he says. His english accent starts to become more noticeable. “I was, a fair amount of times, mistaken to be you. Apparently they thought you had grown out your hair and taken a magical anti-aging tonic.” 

He stood up straight, which was when I realized how tall he was. He was about an inch taller than Dutch, and that was with his hat on. “I followed him here.” he jerks his head toward me, and I grimace painfully. I had checked every moment to be sure I wasn’t being followed, there was absolutely no way he could have followed me… 

“Arthur…?” Dutch spoke slowly. “What have we all said that you must do when walking back into camp?”

I didn’t understand. 

“And you, of all the people--”

“He wouldn’t have seen me coming.” The stranger says. “He just wouldn’t have. Don’t blame him, I didn’t come to cause a conflict.”

“Then what did you come to do?” Dutch asks.

“To be honest, I found your crimes impressive and admirable rather than revolting.” he says. “I’m something of a villain myself.”

“Are you calling us villains?” Dutch accuses, his voice rising.

“Outlaws. Is that the word you’re looking for? You’re always the villain in someone’s story.” he says wisely. “About that. I’m not exactly sure where I am. Why did I come here? I don’t know that either. You see, I’ve found myself between a rock and a hard place.”

Lenny looked like he was getting confused. He started to lower his gun. 

“Dutch?” Bill called. 

“What’s your name?” Dutch asked cautiously, resting his hand on his pistol.

“Tony Stark.” The Stranger says, a little bit too quickly. It was easy, as someone who’s been lying about his name for years, to tell he was making that up on the spot.

“We know that ain’t your real name, boy.” Dutch says angrily.

“If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.” He says, smirking. His hands are still up in the air, and despite having no visible weapons on him, he still had a less than defenseless aura about him.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Dutch replies, wrapping his hand around the handle.

“Loki Laufeyson, then.” He says, smiling. “Let’s see if you actually recognize that.”

I certainly didn’t. Of course it was an uncommon name, but I couldn’t recall it.

A few people’s faces did light up inquisitively, including Dutch’s. “Uh huh. And why are you here again?”

“I’m lost. This isn’t the right timeline, and I don’t know how I got here.” he explains. He’s not even trying to do the American accent anymore. He sighs. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I know you.” Dutch interrupts. “I know your name. I ain’t a religious man, but I suppose I believe in gods now. Can you prove it?”

“Prove that I’m a god? I wish.” he says. “I did have some abilities, but I am malfunctioning, so to say. I turned into a squirrel to follow Mister…” he looks over to me.

“Morgan. Arthur Morgan.” I grunt. 

“Mister Morgan.” Loki completes. “But I’m having trouble reading your mind, Mister Van Der Linde. I can’t, and normally I can.”

Dutch takes his hand off his gun. “Bill, lower your rifle. Mister Laufeyson, you can put your hands down. You and Arthur, come with me.”

That was just about the weirdest conversation I’ve had, and I’ve had some weird conversations in my time. I follow Dutch to his tent, which he opens and takes Loki into. 

“Arthur, come on.” Dutch says, sitting down across from Loki on his bed.

“I’ll be honest with you, Laufeyson, I ain’t comfortable with this.” Dutch begins. “To have the goddamn master of mischief in my camp. But…” he trails off, thinking. “I’ve got experience with even the toughest of people. And you… what’s your expertise? What’chu good for?”

“I’d be good for a lot of things if my abilities worked.” He says. “But, like I said, I’m malfunctioning. I’m good with knives.”

“Malfunctioning?” I laugh. “Knives? Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“Yes.” He says. “I taught myself how to a week ago.”

“A week ago?” Dutch repeats. He chuckles. “You’ll need some help, feller. You can’t get good in a week.”

I looked to Dutch, trying to get catch his eye. I was quite confused. His eyes darted toward me, seemingly getting my message.

“I should send someone to take you hunting for practice.” Dutch says to Loki. “Micah?”

“Send Charles.” I advise. “Micah’s gonna teach the poor boy to kill everything in sight. We don’t need another Micah in this camp.”

“How about Javier?” Dutch suggests.

“Just pick anyone but Micah.” I say carelessly. Dutch calls for Javier, and he hustles Loki away quickly, leaving me and Dutch alone in the tent.

“Who the hell is he?” I finally ask him.

“He’s the goddamn norse god of mischief.” He says. “Or at least, that’s what he claims.”

“Excuse me?”

“Norse. Viking Mythology.” He states. 

“Do you believe him?”

“No.” He scoffs. “I was playing along. But I guess we’ll see.”

“Good with knives…” I imitate. “Taught himself how to shoot a gun a week ago… he’s pathetic. I met him in town after getting clean. Strange feller then, and a strange feller now.”

“How about you keep an eye on him?” Dutch says. “Don’t let him leave the camp without one of us with him. We can’t trust him.”

“Obviously.” I say. “But I think the real question should be if he’s worth keeping alive.”

“Why the hell not?” Dutch shrugs. “Keep him around until I find a reason why I should kill him. So far he’s just a compulsive liar, what with that god bullshit and all. But… let’s just say for that one second it’s true…” he pauses for a moment. “He might be valuable.”

“Of course he might.” I interrupt. “Everyone could be. But it’s like letting any random person into our camp. He could be a goddamn O’driscoll for all we know.”

“Which is why we’re keeping a close eye on him.” he explains. “But do try to familiarize yourself with him. There’s something about that kid…” 

“There’s always something about someone. There was ‘something’ about Micah and now look where we are.”

“Arthur!”

“I’m joking.” I defuse, although half of me wasn’t. “I’ll speak to Kieran when I find the time is right.”

“Good, but in the meantime, be productive. I don’t want you loitering around here.”

“Who do you think I am? Uncle?” I smirk, leaving the tent. I check on Tilly and Mary-Beth, who are bending over a book, whispering among themselves.

“Oh, hey Arthur.” Tilly greets, looking up. “What’chu up to?”

“Could ask the same to you.” I reply.

“I’ve sworn I coulda heard that name before.” Mary-Beth says. “The new feller’s name. Loki. From a book.”

“Well Dutch says he’s the… norse god of mischief, I think. But he don’t believe him.”

“He’d be a fool to believe him, sure.” Tilly says. “That’s the most absurd lie I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah… Javier took him hunting. Let’s see what his verdict is when he gets back. Javier tends to be a good judge of character.” I comment.

I stuck around camp for a little while, doing chores and cleaning my guns, slightly anxious to hear what Javier thought of Loki. 

Around sunset, Javier returned with Loki. By the look on Javier’s face, I could tell he was less than enthusiastic from his recent hunting trip. I knew he wasn’t usually ecstatic about going out into the wilderness to hunt, but he tolerated it. But this was a new look of distaste.

Javier practically steered Loki over toward the scout fire, and told Bill to keep watch. Bill also looked less than happy.

Javier sat across from me at the poker table, and lit a cigarette. “Jesus Christ.” he let out a long sigh.

“How’d it go?” I ask, setting aside my beer.

“I… huh.” He takes a long drag on the cigarette. “Not how I expected it to go.”

“How’d you expect it to go?”

“Well, I expected it to be like training. Typical newbie like him, turns out he’s a fucking animal whisperer.”

“How so?” I asked, my curiosity peaking.

“Well,” he started, his voice turning annoyed. “Let’s begin with the fact that he’s obnoxious. Not like Molly O’Shea obnoxious, but a new kind. He’s a know it all, calm kind of obnoxious. And he’s a son of a bitch. I swear, he was trying to tell me how to hold a knife! I know how to hold a goddamn knife, alright?”

“Calm down, Javier.” Dutch announces, joining us at the table. “Seems like you had quite the time.”

“One could say that.” He sighs. “Maybe you should take him out next time.”

“Maybe I will.” Dutch chuckles. “So, did he show you any of these claimed ‘powers’?”

“I dunno.” Javier says, sounding exasperated. “He made a fucking squirrel crawl up his arm. He got close enough to a deer to stab it with a poisoned knife. He’s a silent stalker.” Javier hunched his shoulders. “As much as I already despise him, he’s better than I expected.”

“At hunting?” Dutch asks.

“Well, yes.” Javier answers. “But he’s stealthy. Rusty with the gun. He could throw knives though, a little bit too well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I grunt.

“For a pompous little prince, he hit the target perfectly too many times to count.”

“Prince?” Dutch asks, his voice reaching peak curiosity.

“Before I started to despise him, I asked him about his past. I couldn’t get much out of him, but he mentioned something about being the adopted son of a king.” Javier adds.

“Wow, this boy is full of surprises, ain’t he?” Dutch smiles, standing up. “Maybe I should talk to him, eh?”

“Good luck, he’s a handful.” Javier chuckles, snuffing out his cigarette and returning to his tent. 

I return to my tent, and write a quick entry into my journal before settling in and drifting off to sleep.


	2. Part 2 of Chapter 1

I could tell that Javier, Mr. Van der Linde, and Mr. Morgan were all talking about me behind my back at the poker table, but I couldn’t care less. Actually, I did care, but I wouldn’t want to admit it.

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the whole thing. Ever since Thanos came and supposedly snapped my neck, and then suddenly I’m in this hellhole of a western state. I had to get accustomed to everything; I was used to average midgardians being defenseless, despite the avengers, but this was new. No electricity, no indoor plumbing, and everyone was carrying around revolvers, or pistols, or rifles… and the hostility in the air was palpable.

I glanced over at the man that Javier had put me next to. Javier had mentioned his name was Bill, but he had a surly look about him, one that told me to back off, and not say anything to him. He was hunched over, cleaning his rifle absentmindedly. 

I wanted to speak to him, but something told me that wasn’t a good idea. I also wanted to leave or maybe talk to someone else, but I didn’t think that would sit well with him either. So I rested my head on my hand and thought deeper about what I had been through.

“Well well, you look pretty pathetic.” a voice said from behind me. I looked around, coming face to face with another man. This one had shoulder length golden-blonde hair, and a mustache that ran from ear to ear. He looked particularly menacing, with both hands resting on his pistols and his dirty white hat upon his head. A shiver ran up my spine as I saw a bloodstain travelling up one of the sleeves on his black leather jacket.

“Hello, sir.” I greet, trying to keep my voice steady. Bill looks up at the new guy.

“You wanna take over this shift?” he growls.

“Eh… sure, Williamson.” he replies, sitting down next to me, a little too close for my liking. The man wraps his hand around my neck, and turns my head to face him. He smirks and tilts my chin up slightly. “I hear Javier isn’t pleased with you, cowpoke. Good job.”

“Good job on--” I push his hands away from my face. “On what? Who are you, anyway?”

“Micah Bell, at your service.” he says smartly, holding out his hand for me to shake. I take it cautiously, looking into his eyes. While Mr. Van der Linde and Mr. Morgan were talking about me in the tent like I couldn’t hear them, I remembered Morgan mention Micah, saying that “Micah’s gonna teach the poor boy to kill everything in sight” and “we don’t need another Micah in this camp.” 

I didn’t see his aversion to him so far. Sure, maybe his first impression needed work, but I could see something within him. 

“I’m gonna be real honest with you, boy, I don’t believe a word you say about your godly claims, but you’re a talented liar alright.” he starts, leaning on me, still keeping one hand on his pistol. “You had me fooled for a second, although that mighta been Dutch helping you.”

“No, I am a good liar.” I say before I can stop myself. “Well, at least I should be.”

“Good sport.” He chuckles. “I see something in you, cowpoke. Maybe you and I should go out robbing a stagecoach or something, see what you can do. I’m better company than Javier Escuella.” He pulls out his pistol from his holster, and spins it elegantly in his hand, finally setting the rifling at my neck. I looked at his face, which was dawning a slightly maniacal look. He was clearly joking about putting a bullet in my head, but the expression on his face was highly unsettling.

“Micah!”

In a second, Micah stows his gun and slides away from me, leaving a two foot gap in between us. It was almost comical how fast he had moved away from me once he had heard his name, almost like he didn’t want to be seen with me.

“Quit tormenting the boy.” Mr. Van der Linde ordered carelessly. 

“I wasn’t tormenting him!” Micah replied defiantly.

“Of course you weren’t.” He says anyway, sitting next to me. “Would you mind? I’d like to have a talk with Mister Laufeyson here.”

“As you wish, boss.” He says, bowing extravagantly and somewhat sarcastically. Once he had gone, Mister Van der Linde turned to me.

“So, Loki, I suppose you’d like to sleep tonight.” He says obviously.

“I guess, if it’s no trouble for you, Mister Van—”

“Dutch is just fine for now.” He says. “Yes, you have an area to sleep with Hosea, but I guess if you want to be with Micah; he seemed to be sidling up to you—“

“Uh— maybe, I guess. Sure.” I stutter, trying to regain my voice. I had just noticed a man not far away tied to a tree. His hair was messy and he was wearing basic clothing, looking malnourished and cold. He was awake, but he wasn’t saying anything.

Dutch seemed to notice where I was looking. “Ah, I see you’ve met our friend.”

“Not met him, just saw him.” I comment. “Who—“

“Ah, a long story, friend. You see, he’s not willing to talk yet, and we’re all waiting until he’s ready.”

“But who is he?”

“One of O’driscoll’s boys.” Dutch says loudly. At O’driscoll, the captive looks up, his eyes full of fear. “Colm O’driscoll and I have a long, unresolved feud between us.” He explains, lowering his voice again. “He probably knows where he is, but we haven’t been able to get him to talk. Not yet.”

“I might know some ways—“

“Practical starvation and my threatening comments haven’t gotten him to speak a word, my friend. I doubt you know much more, but maybe you do…”

“Threatening comments?” I ask skeptically. “Well it’s no surprise that hasn’t worked—“

Incredibly quickly, Dutch grabs my collar and pulls me close to his face, where he stares me down, menacingly. My heart had stopped, as I waited for him to say something.

“You know what I say? You know what this gang does? We feed fellers who need feeding, save fellers as need saving, and kill fellers as need killing.” His voice seemed like it had gone an octave lower, and I felt as though I was being threatened by Odin again as a young child. I didn’t move an inch, but held my breath.

“We’re going to find out  _ exactly  _ what you need.” He threatens slowly, annunciating everything perfectly. I swear, as a god of lies, I would have spilled every single one of my darkest secrets to this hell of a man.

Dutch lets go of my collar and laughs. “I don’t know, maybe I ain’t as threatening as I used to be, in my old age.”

It got me to thinking, how old was Dutch? I didn’t feel like asking him, though, especially after that. My heart was still beating fast.

“Anyway, we will have to chain you to one of the tents, you know, for insurance purposes.” He continues. “Can’t have you running off telling who knows who about where we’re hiding out.”

“I understand.” I say, thinking that it would be best not to argue. Otherwise I might end up like that poor boy on the tree…

Dutch grabs my forearm and practically drags me over to one of the tents, raises my hands above my head, and ties them together on the tent post. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was supposed to sleep like this, but Dutch pats my head anyway, smirking. “Sleep tight, princess.”

And he leaves toward his tent, snuffing out the lantern light on his way in. 

I slid down the post and sat down, trying to force myself into submission. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I refrained from forcibly smashing my head into the ground or the pole to knock myself out. 

In the end, I began to try to turn into an animal, or recall any sort of my power back to me. I felt a quick surge of it at one time, and I could enter a sleeping man’s dream. Specifically the one who I was next to. It was a short trip, but I did a quick search and found out that the man’s name was Hosea Matthews, and he was Dutch’s second in command, the brains of the operation and a long time loyal member of the gang. 

I tried to read a few other’s minds, but only ended up figuring out two other people’s names, specifically Lenny Summers and Charles Smith. I suppose I’ll just have to get to know the rest over time. Apparently my mind was too exhausted to continue on after I had strained it to read their minds, so I passed out, and slept, and I had a dream.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I saw Thor again. I saw Frigga and Odin and Hela, and I saw the rest of the Avengers. And Thanos. Thor had walked forward, and placed his hands on my shoulders. “We need you.” He had said, but his voice was distant, floating. I saw Frigga fall to her knees, and disappear. The rest of the Avengers, Hela, Odin, all followed. Thanos was the only one left standing, looking at me menacingly. I felt empty, as Thor shook me.

“We need you!” He repeated.

“Hey cowpoke…” I heard in the background. When I had heard it, it was a jumble of familiar voices.

“You never told us about your past.” I recognized Mr. Morgan’s voice in the last one.

“We’re your family…” Thor pleaded, his eyes turning red with tears. But near the end, Thor’s voice started to sound a whole lot like Dutch’s…

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty!”

My eyes shot open, and I tried immediately to get up, apparently forgetting that my hands were still bound tightly to the tent. I heard someone laughing as I tried to yank my hands away, until someone puts their fingers on my chest and pushes me back down.

“Micah, I told you to wake him quietly, we don’t need a commotion.” I heard Dutch say, who had calmed me.

“Well I didn’t suppose he’d throw a tantrum.” Micah says, walking in front of me so that I can see his face. He slaps me weakly. “Did you have a nightmare?”

I don’t say anything, being a little stunned from my dream and my abrupt awakening.

Micah slaps me harder. “Answer me, boy.”

“You don’t need to be so harsh, I know you secretly love him.” Dutch teases, untying my hands.

“And what gave you that idea?” Micah says cautiously, standing up. I feel the rope around my wrists loosen.

“Don’t think I imagined you flirting with him yesterday.” Dutch persists, finally removing the rope. “Ain’t that right, Loki?”

I take a deep breath and stand up, brushing off my pants. “What?” I ask, not really noticing what they were saying. I was off thinking about Thor again.

Dutch doesn’t say anything, but puts his hand on my shoulder and steers me away from Micah. “We should introduce you to the rest of the gang.” he suggests, stopping near his tent. “Or maybe, you could do something for us so we don’t need to tie you up every night.”

“Like what?” I ask, suddenly feeling excited.

“Robbery, Maybe, or something of the sort. Something like that would make me happy. Someone’ll have to take you along though, we don’t want you going off alone.” Dutch looks around. “Arthur! You busy?”

Mr. Morgan, who was alone in his tent scribbling in a small, leather bound book, looked up. “Not really, what’s up?”

“Take Mister Laufeyson into Valentine, will you? Get him a horse or something, and take him hunting after.” Dutch asks. “Oh, and do get him some firearms, he doesn’t have anything of his own yet.”

Mr. Morgan stands up and takes his satchel off the table, walking over to Dutch. “You sure we can trust him?” he lowers his voice while talking to Dutch, although I didn’t quite know why. I could still hear him clear as day.

“I see a twinkle in his eyes, he’s got potential. We can’t just keep him locked up here, can we?” Dutch smiles. “Go have fun, boys!”

Morgan beckons me over to his horse, and mounts flawlessly. I follow suit, a little bit more shakily, sitting behind him.

“Do I need to tie you up and set you like a bounty on my horse?” He asks, looking behind at me. “Or are you not gonna run off?”

“No, Mister Morgan.” I say, not really comfortable with his tone or the fact that I was very close to him on this horse.

“You know, Dutch was right. You’ve got a very annoying, formal way of addressing fellers.” he says. “Call me Arthur.”

“Sure.” I say. I felt like this was an out-of-body experience. The strangeness of the people around me, the clothes that I was wearing, the way people spoke, it didn’t feel right. And it wasn’t right. I should be dead, in Valhalla or Hel. Not in this gang where guns were regular and everyone spoke in a southern accent.

“Hey, you alive back there?”

I shook myself out of my stupor. “Yes?”

Arthur looked behind him. “Just seemed quiet.”

“Oh, ok.” I say. I wasn’t myself. I was a sorry sight. It didn’t feel right to be talking to this man, who was one wrong word away from shooting me without mercy. 

“You never told us about your past.” Arthur says, finally making it out of the trees. I remembered him saying that in my dream.

“Eh, I’m not that interesting.” I lie. “I’ve got a brother. And a father-- well, I had a father, I don’t anymore. I just found out I had a sister.” I start, wanting to avoid the silence that I could sense was settling in. “My mother died too. Long story.” I thought about what to say next. “I helped my brother kill my sister, she was trying to take over my homeworld.”

“You-- your homeworld?” he repeats. “You sure do talk funny.”

“Well it isn’t a lie. I lived on a pla--” I cut myself off, not wanting to talk about Asgard. It’s not like he’d believe me, anyway. “It’s nothing.”

“It better be nothing, cause we’re almost here.” He says. “Have you ever ridden a horse?”

“Yes.” I say. That much was the truth.

“Can you ride one well?”

“I suppose.” I shrug.

“At least you’re good at something.” he says. We ride into town, and Arthur dismounts near the stable, and hitches his horse on the side. “Don’t pick the most expensive one, ‘kay?”

“Of course not.” we enter the stables, and I browse my options. I end up choosing a black thoroughbred with a white stripe down its face, and a silvery-white tail. I named her Reverie. I had considered Frigga, but I felt as though it would be too hard to recall her name that often.

I buy a saddle, and head with Arthur to the gunsmith. 

“What do you prefer, revolvers or pistols?” Arthur asks, before we enter the shop. I think for a moment, but Arthur walks into the shop and buys a schofield revolver and a springfield rifle anyway before I can tell him my preference. It’s not really like I had one anyways. 

“Come on, let’s ride down southwest and look for game.” Arthur suggests. “And you better not make me as pissed as Javier was this time.”

“I don’t know what I did.” I say defensively. “Maybe I just wasn’t Javier’s type.”

“Sure you weren’t. He said you were a know-it-all and a show off. Don’t pull that shit with me.” he growls.

“I was-- I wasn’t a show off!” I retort. “I just preferred to throw knives like I do, not like he does!” 

“Didn’t know there were so many ways to throw knives.” He muses. We ride for a little bit longer, until Arthur dismounts, taking his rifle from his shoulder.

“Come, I know where we can find some foal.” He says, beckoning me forward. He takes me up the hill and points out some deer that are wading in the shallow river.

“Do you want me to just…” I start.

“Do as I do.” He says. He gets to his knees and places the butt of his rifle at his armpit. “Shooting animals is nothing like pulling your guns on a shit load of guys shooting back at you, but it’s a start.”

I copy his stance. “Set your scope.” He orders. “Focus. We’re going for a headshot.”

Accuracy was one of my strong suits, so this was good for me. I closed my left eye and held the rifle steady.

“Once you have the shot lined up, pull the trigger.” He says. “I don’t want to scare them off before you get the chance to at least attempt to shoot it.”

I didn’t really like killing animals, but when it popped into my mind that it was for the good of the gang, I pulled the trigger. A deafening shot rang through the air, and the deer that I was aiming at fell dead.

“Not bad.” He says. “Let’s go down to get it.”

I follow him down to the riverbank, where Arthur pulls the carcass from the river and sets it next to me. “You’re gonna skin it.”

“What?”

“You are going to skin this deer.” He says slowly. “Problem?”

“Well, I’ve never—“

“What, pretty boy? Are you afraid to get your princess hands dirty?” He mocks, smirking. “You have a knife, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then get to work!”

I bend over the dead deer and try to recall how I remember Javier skinning the deer he had killed. I took my knife, and ran the blade down its stomach. I rolled up my sleeves, and pulled back the hide, the stench of flesh and blood filling my nostrils.

“You can do the rest, can’t you?”

Arthur laughed, and it was that kind of laugh that filled you with rage. “No, I think you should.”

I didn’t want to argue with him, so I bent down next to the half skinned deer again. I took out my knife, and pulled the rest of the skin back. I ran my knife down one side the hide, and yanked it out from underneath the deer, and rolled it up neatly into a roll.

“Not terrible.” Arthur comments, taking it. “You could have cut deeper with the first cut, it didn’t come off very smoothly then.”

“You’re nitpicking.” I retort.

“Oh, no I ain’t.” He says, still examining the pelt. “If you woulda just skinned this better, that’s a dollar, maybe two more.”

“It’s just a dollar.” I shrug.

“Every cent counts, at least that’s what I believe.” He mentions, walking over to his horse and stowing it. “Now, boy, let me show you how a professional does it.”

I roll my eyes, but follow him anyway back up to the ridge with my rifle.


	3. Part 3 of Chapter 1

Arthur Morgan

Loki was better than I would have thought at shooting, at knife throwing, and at hunting. Maybe Javier had overreacted. Sure, Loki was hesitant to get his hands dirty and occasionally he gave me attitude, but it was easy to make him back down and remind him that I was the boss here. His accuracy was on point, but his reload and fire rate needed work. He was a little bit more hesitant than I would have liked when it came to killing animals, but when I asked if he would be like this while killing humans, he immediately shook his head and went back to practicing.

We went back to camp, and hitched our horses outside. Dutch asked me to take Loki around and introduce him to the others, which I knew I wasn’t going to enjoy, but I did anyway.

“Follow me.” I said, dragging Loki over to Pearson’s wagon. “If you want the perks of being with us, you better pitch in ‘round here. There’s always work to be done.”

He nods, but stays silent. I was starting to get a strange, shy vibe from this man. “Anyway, this is Pearson’s wagon. You’ll know him when you see him. He makes the food and takes care of the camp and whatnot, along with Miss Grimshaw. We always take donations for provisions and medicine, so if you have any spare stuff like that, go donate.”

He nods again, and I take him over to the women’s tent. We stand a fair distance away as I point out a few of them. “That’s Mary-Beth, Tilly Jackson, Abigail Roberts-- ah, she’s Marson’s… wife, not legally, but they may as well be.” I explain. I point at John, who’s sitting with Lenny at the fire. “That’s John Marston, by the way, sitting with Lenny Summers.”

I point at Charles, who’s sitting in his tent, talking to Hosea. “And that’s Charles Smith, with Hosea Matthews. If you want to ask someone about this gang, next to Dutch, he’s your best bet. The brains of this operation. I don’t know where we’d be without him.”   
I can see Molly inside of Dutch’s tent. “Molly O’shea. Dutch’s…” I pause, looking for the kindest word possible to describe her. “Pleasurer, I suppose. Don’t tell them I said that.”

Loki smirks. “Anyone else?”   
“You don’t know the half of it.” I say. “That over there is Javier, oh-- you know him already. That’s Bill Williamson and--” I groan under my breath. “Micah Bell.”

“Why don’t you like him?”

“Micah?” I repeat. “Long story, not really in the mood to discuss it.” 

Loki frowns. “Ok, continue.”

I point at the only little boy in our camp. “That’s Jack Marston. Abigail and John’s son, although I doubt he’s actually John’s son.”

“Hi Uncle Arthur.” He replies, looking up, smiling.

“Hey, Jack.” I reply, smiling back at him. “Anyway, over there, next to my tent, that’s Leopold Strauss. He’s talking to Reverend Swanson.”

“What’s up with him?” Loki asks, looking at Reverend.

“He’s a drunk, as far as I know.” I explain, leading him away from the two. “Ah, and how could I forget Uncle, the parasite.”

“I’m not always sleeping!” he replies, opening his eyes and standing up in his tent. 

“Sure seems like it.” Arthur replies.

“Uncle?” he asks. “You just call him…”

“We’ve been calling him Uncle for so long, I don’t even remember what his real name is, if he even has one.”

I lead him away toward the scout fire, where I see the last two people I haven’t introduced. “That’s Karen Jones there, with Sadie Adler. She’s new, we found her in the mountains after the O’driscolls made her a widow.”

“Oh.” he sighs.

“Now go, I’m sick of you. Go bother someone else.” I say bluntly, patting him in the back. “Look there, Hosea looks lonely, go have a cigarette with him.”

“I don’t smoke.” he says. “And… I don’t plan on.”

I shrug. “Whatever, just don’t run off.”

I leave him alone, and finish a few chores before the sun sets. I realize that Loki’s sitting at the fire again, with Micah no less. It was hard to tell whether Loki wanted him there, but he didn’t seem to be annoyed. But… I still didn’t want Micah to plant bad ideas in his head.

At eleven PM, I tie Loki to my tent, as tight as possible. The last thing I wanted was him to escape when it was my turn to watch him. I sit on my bed and bend over my journal, beginning to sketch Loki tied to the post.

“Is that a diary?” he asks.

I give him an angry glance. “You’re a prisoner, shut up.”

“Just asking.” he says quietly.

I finish sketching him and return the book to my side table, and slowly drift to sleep.

“Get up, Arthur!”

My eyes shoot open, and I get onto my shoulders to see Dutch looking at me seriously. “Where’s Loki?”

My eyes dart toward where he was yesterday, and, sure enough, he’s gone.

“I swear I tied him up harder than I tie bounties to my horse.” I snarl.

“Well, he’s not here, and I’ve got no one else to blame, Arthur.” he accuses. 

“What time is it?”

“Eight AM, why?”   
“When do you suppose he got out?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

I get out of the bed. “Well what do you want to do? Send me out to find him?”

“I’ve sent Lenny and Charles.” he growls. “Although it would have been nice to not have to send them out.”

“Well, of course, but I--” 

His punctuality was next to godliness, which, I must admit, was a little bit more plausible than it once was.

I tap Dutch on the shoulder, and he looks behind at the man, riding his horse into camp.

“You have some explanations to give, boy!” Dutch calls, walking toward Loki, who’s dismounting his horse.

“And I think you owe an apology, Mister Van der Linde.” he replies, facing us. I realize that he’s changed nearly every aspect of his outfit. He’s wearing a gold puff tie and a new, crisp green vest with his white shirt sleeves rolled up. His pants and boots were new, with gold spurs and half chaps on his ankles. He wore a large, black belt with a golden buckle and a custom holster, along with another off-hand holster. He had slung a rifle and a repeater over his shoulder, and a thin bandolier was laid across his chest.

“Jesus, where’d you get that?” I ask, looking at his outfit. I realized he had also shaved completely, making the scar on his cheek that he had clearly got from shaving himself much more prominent. The closer he got, the more I noticed that he looked as though he had dumped an entire tin of hair pomade and slicked it back so severely that he looked even more like Dutch, except it was way longer.

“I visited San Denis.” he shrugs. “And, I visited something that you might find interesting, Dutch.”

On his belt, there’s a small, satchel-like pouch on the side. He pulls a stack of cash out, and gives it all to Dutch. “I robbed a banking stagecoach.”

Dutch takes the money greedily, and begins to count it. “Well then, what a pleasant surprise.” Dutch leans over to me. “It’s nearly six hundred.” he mutters. I can hear the happiness in his voice.

“Consider it a peace offering.” he says. “I give you this, don’t tie me up anymore, and I’ll be an official member of this gang. Deal?” 

“Seems likely now.” Dutch mutters. He pockets the money and looks up at him. “Good job, but you better not say a single thing about us out in the wild.”   
“Of course not--”   
“And loyalty. To me. You better not start doubting me any time soon.” he continues. “Do anything like that and I’m coming to kill you, boy.”

“Understood.” Loki says, making a quick salute gesture. He starts to walk away, but then turns around. “Where should I sleep?”

Dutch thinks for a moment, and then looks at me. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was thinking.

“Not permanently.” he interrupts as soon as I open my mouth to interject. “Just set up something little, like half a tent, attached to your wagon, and that’ll be his little area for now.”

As much as I wasn’t looking forward to spending this much time with the newbie, I didn’t argue with Dutch, and just walked back over to my tent and began to set up a little add-on.

“You better not be annoying.” I say, hearing his footsteps approach behind me.

“I’m not. Annoying.” he adds quickly, looking at me. “Thank you, by the way. For… this.”

“No problem.” I grunt, draping the tent cloth over the two poles driven into the ground. I remove the extra bedroll from my wagon and lay it underneath. “Enjoy.”

“I will.” he nods to me and heads over to Micah’s tent.

“Hey.” I call after him. He looks back at me. “Where are you goin’?

He looks at the ground, and his eyes flit over to the tent. “Come ‘ere.” I say, beckoning him over. He walks back cautiously. “Don’t you get too comfortable with Micah, okay?”

“Why not?” he asks, a dose of defiance in his voice.

“Because he’s a jackass.” I whisper simply. “I like you, boy, but you better not be going keeping company with the wrong type of people.” I think about that for a moment. “Granted, you’ve got low standards, hanging around with people like us, but Micah’s the lowest you can go. Jus’... don’t let him get to you.”

“Of course, I can look out for myself. Besides, what’s the worse he can do?” Loki shrugs.

I smirk. “Good boy.”

I pat him on the shoulder and send him on his way. The more I think about it, the more I think it might be good that Micah’s making friends. Maybe Loki will try to change Micah, which would be just about the greatest gift I could wish for. 

The Reverend had got in some trouble again. I heard from Charles that he had went down to Flatneck Station and I should go get him. Sure enough, I found him gambling his sorrows away, or really more like drunkenly following my advice, which I had never given him in the first place. Or maybe I had, I wasn’t really sure anymore. He almost got run over by a train, you know, the usual, and then I had to escort him back to camp, the half-drunken bastard.

When I got back, the sun was setting, and Loki was sitting in a new place, talking to Charles. I was happy that he was trying to acquaint himself with the rest of the gang, but I needed to speak to Micah.

“Are you teaching that boy your ways?” I ask, sitting down across from Micah at five-finger-fillet. 

“Which boy?” He replies smartly, stabbing the table with his knife.

“Don’t be dumb, the new kid.”

“Oh, him.” He rolls his eyes. “Quite clingy, ain’t he?”

“I dunno, Dutch said you seemed attached to him at first.” I smirk.

“I was just bein’ hospitable.” He sneers.

“That sounds like you.” I say sarcastically. “Someone who didn’t know you would say you were looking for his approval.”

“Bullshit.” He says simply. “I was-”

“Sidling up to him? Intimidating him? Making fun of him? Come on, one of them has to be right.” I encourage. He glares at me.

“Well then, I’ll see his side of things.” I announce, getting up. I head over to him, who’s now talking to Javier.

“I met Dutch stealing some chickens after I fled Mexico. He was… something special, different than all the other Americans. You know what I’m talking about?”

Loki sighed. “Yeah, I suppose. I wish I could have had someone in my life like Dutch.”

Javier looked up. “Hey Arthur.”

“Looks like you’ve gotten over your…” I clear my throat. “Dislike.”

“Maybe.” He chuckles. “Is there something you wanted to say?”

I sit down next to Loki on the log. “Micah’s been sidling up to him. Ain’t that right, Loki?”

He splashes me lightly with his beer. “Shut up. And yes, we’ve been friendly with each other. What’s the big deal with that?”

“If you’ve known Micah before, it’s a big deal.” Javier says. “He’s a sour snake. An asshole racist bastard.”

“Racist?” Loki repeats.

Javier doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face was full of hidden disgust.

“You’ll thank me later, steer clear of him, okay?” I pat Loki on the shoulder. “And Bill, for that matter. He’s an idiot.”

Loki smiles. I look into his eyes, and something lit up behind them. I remember that Dutch had said “I can see something in his eyes” while referring to him. I think I finally understood what he meant. There was something about his bright, green eyes that felt as though they were staring into my soul, which was highly unsettling me as well as calming me. It was a really strange feeling that I couldn’t place exactly.

“I like Charles.” Loki says randomly. “He’s a wise, polite person. There aren’t too many people like that from my timeline.”

“Your what?”

“Right.” He mutters. “I’m going to bed.” he stands up and heads over to my wagon, where he sits down on his bedroll and closes his eyes.

“Are you really taking a liking to him?” I ask Javier, who had taken out his knife.

“You whipped him into shape, didn’t you?” he comments. “When you took him out hunting. He was different for you than for me.”

“He surprised me with his skill.” I admit. “Not sure what I did differently than you, maybe I’m just more intimidating.”

“Shut up.” he chuckles. “He’s shy, but then occasionally he’s more confident. It’s real weird. 

“Like how?”

“Well you saw him when he made his entrance earlier today. Stood up straight, head held high, and now he’s like an embarrassed school girl.” he describes.

“Inconsistent personality.” I state. “Well then, I’m going to follow suit. And…”

Javier looks up. “What?”

“I reckon it’s time I should talk to our old friend Kieran tomorrow, if you feel like coming.”

“Maybe you should take Loki.” He says. “See what he can do.”

“He’s proved himself with that money he brought today. But I’d like to see him shoot.” I admit. “Anyways, good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I return to my tent and place my satchel on the side table. I lay down on the cot, and listen to Loki’s soft breathing on the other side of my wagon, and drift into submission.


	4. Part 4 of Chapter 1

Loki Laufeyson

I slept better than yesterday.

That’s not saying much, considering I didn’t sleep at all. I had tried so hard to get the sorcery flowing through my veins again, and eventually I managed to turn myself into a cat and slip out of the ropes Arthur tied me to. 

No, I wasn’t trying to escape the Van der Linde gang. If I was, I wouldn’t have come back. I kept my wits about me, and snuck out of camp. I noticed I couldn’t turn back into myself, which was a panic moment to say the least. I calmed myself down for the time being, and jumped into the back of a stagecoach. The two men driving it spoke about Colm O’driscoll, and one thing led to the next.

I ended up taking down both of them silently after turning back into myself, which I had finally calmed down enough to do. Long story short, I found a map on one of them marking the location of a wagon fence, and took it there, looting the money beforehand. It came out around eight hundred, which I didn’t think was much, remembering that Tony Stark was a billionaire and thinking the most that you could buy with eight hundred in my timeline was big Lego set or something. But I didn’t think about inflation.

So using the map I had found, I went to the town down south called San Denis. Remembering Valentine, and being in San Denis, the difference in size and population was incredible. Not to mention cleanliness. I visited the gunsmith, bought two revolvers and a new outfit at the tailor. By then it was time to leave, I took my horse back, and now I’m here.

This was strange. I didn’t get anything, I definitely wasn’t myself. I made myself calm down the last few days, but it still didn’t take my mind off of Thor, Thanos, and the rest of them.

I was supposed to be dead, but I was here instead, with a group of twenty or so people, where my abilities didn’t work half the time and I slept on the ground on a thin sheet.

Now sure I slept better than last night, but that doesn’t mean I slept well. My mind was in a million different places at once, and I had trouble sleeping on the hard ground. I thought about Thor mostly, but that made me think of Frigga, which made me think of Odin, who reminded me of Dutch. He made me think of the gang, which then made me think of Arthur, who, for some reason, reminded me strangely of Thor.

And so the cycle continued.

I woke up early this morning and picked up a cup of coffee from the brewer near the stew pot. I leaned against Pearson’s wagon, looking into the cup, swirling the coffee around without drinking it.

“You doing okay?”

I looked up to see someone standing next to me, holding their own coffee cup. He was an older man with graying hair. Arthur told me his name was Hosea.

“I’m fine.” I say, wondering what else I should say. “I mean, it’s different, and I don’t belong here, but there’s nothing I can do.”

He looks at me with a strange look on his face. “What do you mean?”

I sigh. “You won’t believe me, but I was raised with a golden spoon in my mouth, I guess. I lived the high life. I… well, it wasn’t like this. On earth, the year was 2012 or something, I knew some very smart people, It was far from this.” I noticed I had gone on rambling again. I stopped myself, and sipped the coffee, which was very bitter. I strained myself from making a face.

“We’ve had some strange people, but a time-traveling god has not been one of them.” He shakes his head. “And you’re right, I don’t believe you.”

I notice Micah sitting by the campfire, seemingly playing with a knife. As I look over at him, Hosea makes a strange noise.

“What?”

“Nothing, just wondering your fascination with him.” He says innocently. “He hasn’t taken to anyone like he’s taken to you, and vise versa.”

I look at Hosea. There’s a wise look in his eyes, almost like he’s contemplating something. I look into my coffee, and I can see my reflection staring back at me. The last time I had seen my reflection was when I went hunting with Javier, but it still startled me. My green eyes were dulled, a thin scar was etched into my chin, and there were dark circles under my eyes. 

I still looked like myself, but seeing me like that was an out of body experience. I took a deep breath, set down the mug, and walked over next to Micah.

“Did you even sleep?”

Micah looked up. He didn’t look as though he had slept, but he didn’t look remotely tired or like he wanted to sleep.

He twirled the knife in his hands. “No.”

“Do you ever sleep?”   
“It’s overrated.” he says simply. He points at me with the knife. “Cowpoke, you ought to act a little tougher now, maybe you grew up in a kingdom or whatever bullshit you say, but we ain’t in a kingdom now, as far as I’m concerned. You gotta prove your worth, I didn’t befriend you for no reason.”

Befriend? Was Micah my friend? I remembered what Arthur said about Micah, which was still in the back of my mind. ”Prove my worth? I’m worth plenty, excuse you.” I scoff playfully. “Where I come from, I could turn into practically anyone. My brother used to say…”

I found myself talking about Thor. Micah might not have been listening, but from what I saw he seemed mildly interested. He went out for guard duty and I ended up sitting alone, watching the camp, waiting for something interesting to happen.

And happen it did.

I was watching the captive boy, Kieran, when Arthur walked up to him, and leaned against the tree he was tied to. “You must be really hungry right about now, O’driscoll. You know, it would be so much easier if you just told us what you know!”

“I told you already, I don’t know anything!” He pleads.

“That’s what I thought.” Arthur sighs.

I thought Arthur would leave him then, but I heard someone else’s voice call from one of the tents nearby.

“Hold your horses, fellers! It seems the cat has got our friend here’s tongue.” Dutch had walked out of his tent by the fire, accompanied by Bill Williamson. “I was hoping Mr. Williamson could have a word.”

“You ready to talk, boy?”

I could see the fear in Kieran’s eyes from about six meters away. The three of them were surrounding him menacingly.

“I told you, I-I-I told all of you, I don’t know nothing, ok?” He stammers. “They ain’t no friends of mine! I just— been ridden with them for a while—“

“Horseshit!” Bill snarls. “You see we heard that part so why don’t you tell the truth!” He turns to Dutch. “Whaddya want me to do?”

“Hurt him! So the next time he opens his mouth, it is to tell us what is going on!” He retorts angrily. However, his face relaxes immediately after as he exhales and places his hand on the tree above Kieran’s head. “Ah, who am I kidding? If one of O’driscoll’s boys wouldn’t open his mouth, but he’d tell a lie. Screw it. Let’s just have some fun.”

I heard him use that same, strangely intimidating but calm voice that he used when threatening me. Kieran’s eyes went wide.

He turned to Bill, smiling evilly. “Geld him.”

I thought I had heard him wrong, but my heart skipped a beat when I heard Bill say “oh yeah!” And run off. Dutch had began to laugh, and I could see Kieran start to panic.

“What’s he doin’? Where’s he goin’?” Kieran breathed.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Dutch says loudly, grabbing Kieran’s belt and stripping down his trousers. “They’re only balls, boy. Just gonna cause you trouble.”

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. This was just getting good.

“You know, in imperial Rome, eunuchs was among the happiest and most loyal of courtiers.” Dutch says conversationally as Bill comes over with the gelding tongs.

“Oh no, you’re kidding me right?” Kieran stammers.

“Of course.”

Bill was snapping the tongs and looking hungrily at Kieran’s dick. It was rather disturbing.

“You sick bastards!” Kieran screams. “What do you want from me!?”

“Well, you are gonna talk, the only question is now…” Dutch smiles disturbingly. “Or after we get these little fellers off?”

Kieran’s breathing slows. “Ok! Ok. Listen. I know where O’driscoll’s holed up, and you’re right, he don’t like you, any more than you like him.” Kieran tenses away from the gelding tongs. “He’s at six point cabin!”

“Aww.” Bill sighs, clearly disappointed he didn’t get to use the gelding tongs. He puts them at his side.

“I’ll take you there. Serious.” Kieran adds quickly. “I don’t like him, I mean, I like him even less than I like you, no offense.” he says, glancing at Dutch.

“Oh, none taken.” Dutch replies, chuckling.

“Alright then, partner.” Arthur cuts Kieran from the tree, who pulls up his pants immediately. “Why don’t you take a few of us up there, right now.” He turns to Dutch. “I got this, it should be fun.”

“Alright, you!” Arthur slaps Kieran’s back and makes him walk over towards the horses. 

I can hear Dutch laughing as he walks away. “Geld him!” He laughs, clearly reminiscing about his brilliant interrogation method.

“Bill! John!” Arthur calls, now over by the horses. I see him glance over at me, and his eyes narrow. He seems as though he’s considering something. After a few seconds, he sighs. “Ah, hell. Loki, come on.”

I get a happy feeling in my chest. I hop up and walk over toward my horse, resisting the temptation to skip. I didn’t know why I was so happy.

“Take Kieran.” Arthur tells John, mounting his horse. We begin to trot off, Arthur and John in front of me, Bill behind me.

“Why the hell we takin’ him?” I hear John say from the front. Clearly he was talking about me, but he didn’t even bother lowering his voice so that I might not hear him.

Arthur looks behind at me. “I want to see if he’s good for anything.”   
“Didn’t you take him out?”   
“Not in a fight.”

“So you assume there’ll be a fight?”   
“I expect a fight.”

“Do  _ you  _ expect a fight, O’driscoll?” John sneers, peering back at Kieran.

Kieran makes a strange sniffing noise. “I ain’t no O’driscoll!”

“But you sure as shit was.” Arthur growls back. “Hey Laufeyson, can you shoot a gun?”   
“I have told you multiple times that I have taught myself.” I reply, my teeth grit.

“Oh that’s right, how could I forget, you’ve said it at least a hundred times a day, when no one asked you.”

I scoff. “Well you asked me that time.”

“Can you shoot a gun well?” he restates, ignoring my comment.

I’ve told him this multiple times before too, but I decided to restate it differently. “I’m fine, but my reload and fire rate need work.” that was almost word for word the criticism that Arthur gave me.

“Damn right they do.” he says.

I wanted to ask what Arthur’s problem with me was, but part of me already knew. 

“I put some throwing knives in your saddle bag, Morgan. Dutch said you might need them.” Bill says. “I’m doing the further courtesy of telling you.”

“The next time you need to give something to me, why don’t you just give it to me?” He spat back.

Bill sighs from behind me, although it’s more of an annoyed sniffing sound. “Last goddamn favor I do you.”

Arthur turns to John. “You alright there, John?” He asks.

“Better.” he grunts.

“Damn well should be after all that bed rest.” he replies snarkily. I wanted to ask what Arthur’s problem with John was too, because he always talked to him in a way that dripped sarcasm and conveyed a grudge long since forgotten by everyone else.

“You know Abigail, she wouldn’t let me up.” He retorts. “And before you start talking about what you did while I was down, you know I’d do the same if you was in a bad way.

“Oh really? Because I don’t think you know how to help anyone except yourself.” He snarls.

John sighs, and addresses Kieran. “See? If this is how he treats his friends, imagine what he does to his enemies.”

“I’ve got an inkling of what you do to your enemies when you put those gelding tongs to my parts.” He says, his voice still pretty small. 

“Hey Bill, you still got them tongs?” Arthur asks.

“I got a knife. Won’t be too pretty but it’ll do the job.” He says. I can feel myself shudder at the thought. Bill noticed though, because I heard him say behind me, “you’ll be next, kid. I trust you about as much as I trust him.”

“Anyways…” Arthur says. “Keep that in your mind. Right at the forefront of it.” I wasn’t quite sure if he was addressing me or Kieran, but I just assumed it was both of us.

“How much further?” Bill asks after a few minutes of silent riding.

“Not too much.” Kieran says, his voice as calm as I thought he’d be able to get it.

“Good.”   
It’s a silent ride until we reach the forest, where Kieran tells us to dismount and follow him.

“If you turn on us now, you die, boy.” Arthur warns from behind Kieran. 

“Of course I won’t, that’d be suicide.” He mutters.

“You’ll die, but you’ll lose your balls first.” Bill adds. I can tell that he’s not going to pass up any opportunity to use the gelding tongs.

“Jesus Christ…” I hear Kieran mutter under his breath. We continue to follow him until I can see a cabin through the trees. A lot of tents are set up around it, which reminds me slightly of Horseshoe Overlook.

“Get down. Quick and quiet.” Arthur hisses, taking out his throwing knife and getting behind a tree. Four men walk into the forest, talking quietly. I caught a few words, but they didn’t make much sense to me.

“You got them throwing knives?” Bill asks Arthur. One of the men turns to a tree and begins to take a piss.

Arthur, almost perfectly, lands the knife in his skull. He falls to the ground.

“How about the other ones?”

I look over at John. He’s got his hand over Kieran’s mouth. I look at Arthur, who’s looking at me angrily. He’s got another knife out. I take out one of my throwing knives and we both look from behind our trees. Arthur counts on his fingers, and we throw both knives at the same time, hitting two of the men in the head. As they died at the same time, no one could alert the rest of the camp.

“Nice.” Arthur mutters to me. I feel a happy feeling in my chest. Arthur takes out his bow to finish the last man. He lets fly, but someone in the camp sees the man fall.

“Someone’s here!” He yells. I can’t really see much. I look to Arthur for instructions. He’s already got his repeater out, and advances quickly toward the next tree. I follow suit.

“There! In the trees!”

And chaos ensues.

I take both revolvers out of their holsters and take a deep breath. Gunshots rang through the air. I could feel my heart beating. 

I peeked out from behind the tree and shot a man taking cover behind a crate. A bullet whizzes past my ear. 

“Get closer!” I hear Arthur yell. He’s reloading his repeater already, and runs toward the camp. He’s right outside the clearing when he takes cover.

I advance, leaving my tree and finding another. I shoot two more men near the cabin, and look over at John. I can’t see Kieran anymore, he might have run off. I shoot at a man behind another tree, but miss. I try to shoot him again, and still miss. He falls dead, but not from a bullet I fired.

“Use a goddamn rifle, Laufeyson!” Arthur shrieks from behind me. He sounds pissed off. I holster both revolvers and take out my Springfield rifle. He’s right. It’s way easier to aim and shoot with these.

I thought I was doing good, but my confidence dropped whenever I glanced at Arthur. If I had ever known a better shot than him, I didn’t know. His hands, reloading and firing the repeater, was almost like a dance, practically flawless.

It was probably just my gay-ass mind talking though. I shook the thought and went back to aiming.

“That’s all. Check the cabin.” John told Arthur. I walk into one of the tents and find a tin of crackers, as well as a few revolver cartridges. 

As I retreat from the tent, I hear the cabin door burst open. I run over to see an O’driscoll’s standing over Arthur, his gun pointed straight at him. Before I can do anything, the O’driscoll’s head explodes, and falls over.

“You alright?”

The voice belongs to Kieran, who’s standing a few feet away from Arthur, holding a gun.

“Sure.” He replies, getting to his feet. He takes his gun and enters the cabin. “Colm O’driscoll…” I hear him mutter. He leaves the house and looks at John. “He ain’t here.”

He turns his gun on Kieran. “You set us up.” He snarls, advancing.

“What— I-I-I swear he was here, I didn’t know—“ Kieran stammers. “I— Hey, If I was settin’ you up I wouldn’t have saved your life—

“He’s got a point, Morgan.” Bill chuckles, walking up beside Kieran. I wanted to say ‘you’re one to talk’ but that was pushing it. 

Arthur lowers his gun. “Ok then. Run.”

“What?” Kieran says.

“I said go!” Arthur yells, grabbing Kieran’s shirt sleeve and pushing him away. “I’m giving you a chance to run away!”

“That’s as good as killing me!” He shrieks. “The O'driscolls will find me— Colm’s gonna lose his mind about this.”

“So?”

“So I’m one of you know.”

No one speaks, except Arthur rubs his eyes and breaths, “give me a break…”

“Alright then. We’ll go back to camp—“

“What, you’re not gonna get the cash?” Kieran interrupts.

“Hmm?”

“There’s usually some cash, in the chimney…” he says.

“Alright then…” Arthur murmurs. “Not completely useless after all, are you?” He turns to the rest of us. “All of you, head back to camp, and… tell Dutch old Kieran ain’t worth killin’, just yet.” He smirks and turns into the cabin.

I follow Bill back to the horses. Kieran rides back on my horse with me, and I ponder what just happened. My very first mission… 

I don’t feel like I proved myself.


	5. Part 5 of Chapter 1

I had an entire gang to look after, and myself. Hosea kept me sane, and I appreciated him all too much. 

I was outside my tent reading, awaiting good news, when I saw John ride into camp.

“Where’s Arthur?” Was my immediate response. I always feared he had been shot.

“Stayed back.” John said, dismounting. I could see the O’driscoll boy on Loki’s horse had come off, Loki following suit.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Colm wasn’t there, but Kieran here…” Bill began to explain, grabbing Kieran’s hair. “He saved Arthur’s life, and Arthur… well, he doesn’t think we should kill him. He says he’s one of us now.”

I adjust my footing. “Well then. I suppose we should do what Arthur thinks best, huh?”

“I guess…” Bill frowns, walking back to his tent. I grab his forearm and whisper in his ear.

“He steps one foot out of line then you can use them…” I smile as Bill walks away, just a little bit happier.

“Loki, Loki, Loki.” I say, walking up to him. “Show our new friend here around, will you? Give him some proper clothes, I’m sure Arthur has some in his wagon.” I pat his shoulder and walk over to my horse, lighting a cigar.

I watch Loki take Kieran over to the wagon. I could have hoped for better news, perhaps news that Colm was dead, but I didn’t want to set my hopes too high.

I debated for a while, the prospect of just maybe taking Loki somewhere, getting to know him. What Javier had told me about him kept me on my toes regarding him. I wasn’t one to go out and take a newbie hunting, but something about him fascinated me. He sat down next to Kieran and started talking to him, like he had known him for more than just half a day. There’s only so many people in the world who can do something like that.

I thought about him while Arthur and Hosea had left to hunt a huge bear. I kept thinking… should I speak to him? Should I take him out somewhere? Did he know how to read? Could I teach him?

I noticed Loki had taken a liking to Micah as well. I wasn’t blind, I knew Micah wasn’t great at making friends, as much as I knew Arthur thought I had been blinded by Micah’s attempt at that Ferry job in Blackwater. It was a large sum of money we had left behind, which Micah hadn’t shut up about ever since I had left it there. Only Hosea and I knew where it was, and Micah continued to pester me about telling him where it was, which I knew was never going to happen.

While Arthur and Hosea were gone, I thought, wondered, and debated whether I should take Loki out. His green eyes kept drawing me in, they were full of mystery and a strange, mischievous essence.

“Ah, screw it.” I gave into my temptations the second day Hosea and Arthur were gone. I was getting bored, and I’m sure Molly would have entertained me for a little while, but she’d whine, I’m sure, about me “not giving her enough” or some shit, and I couldn’t deal with that right now. 

I walked over to Loki, who was sitting alone at Arthur’s wagon, reading quietly. I could visibly see his eyes skimming the pages faster than even I could read. 

“Hello, Loki.” I say, leaning on the wagon next to him. He looks up. “Want to go for a walk?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“I have a few leads… or we could just go hunting.” I say.

Loki closes his book and stands up. “I mean, whatever you think is best.”

“Well, personally, I’m better at robbing than hunting, so maybe I’d prefer a stagecoach job, but really it’s your choice. I’d like to see some of these…” I felt kind of stupid saying it, “claimed abilities.”

“I haven’t really claimed to have any abilities, sir.” He says. 

“Oh, you have, why so humble all of a sudden?” I smirk. “I’d like to see them, if they exist.”

“They do.” He says. “Or they did. I swear I’ll try, but there’s no promises.”

“So are we hunting or robbing?” I ask. 

“Robbing, I guess.” Loki decides, shrugging. “What leads?”

“There’s a banking stagecoach that comes through the Dakota River near Cumberland falls on its way to valentine, we could hit that. Pretty sure it should be passing on its way in about an hour.”

“Convenient.” He remarks. 

“Very.”

We walk to the clearing and mount our horses. I lead the way, trotting quickly along the path to Cumberland falls. 

“So, what did you do before you joined up with us?” I ask, wondering if he’ll finally have a normal answer to this.

“Well…” He began, and immediately trailed off. “I could lie, and you might believe me, or I could tell the truth, and then you’d definitely think me a crackhead.”

“I might.” I admit. “But the truth would be more interesting, don’t you think?”

“I told Javier, I was born very very long ago, but for this sake let’s say I’m twenty now.” He says. “In human years. I was adopted by a king, who’s dead now, he actually just died not too long ago. A few years before that I realized I was adopted, from a family of monsters no less, and I might have just made my family despise me.” He continues. “My brother sure does now. Anyway, after my dad died, we found out we had a sister, we got banished to another planet where—“ he stops.

“I see what you mean.” I said. “I don’t really believe you.”

“I told you you wouldn’t.” He replies. “Do you even want to hear any more?”

“Sure, it’s entertaining in the least.” I shrug.

“Well then. Anyway, we got banished to another planet, where I… may or may not have hooked up with the leader to gain his favor, and after that I found my brother Thor who was probably not going to be a twink like me—“

“Wait, did you say his?” I restate.

“His?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say you hooked up with the leader to gain  _ his  _ favor?” I repeat.

“...Maybe…” I looked back at him. His head was turned sideways, in an attempt to shield his face from me. I could still see him blushing profusely though.

“You… hooked up with  _ him _ …” I repeat. “I have to make sure, you are a man, correct?”

“Well not alway— oh.” He seems to realize something. “Oh, of course. It’s 1899, you’re all probably homophobes.”

“Homo— what?” I ask.

“Nevermind.” He mumbles. “It’s… I don’t have the patience to explain it to you.”

“Really?” I reply. “What were you going to say, though?”

He sighs. “Yes, I hooked up with a male, I was male, if you do that it’s called homosexuality.” He explains. He seems to be losing patience, or he just finds the topic uncomfortable to discuss. “The prefix hetero means one of each, the prefix homo means the same. You’re heterosexual if you’re only attracted to the opposite sex, you’re homosexual if you’re only or also attracted to the same sex.”

“So I suppose you’re homosexual?” I confirm.

“Yes.” He says. “I mean, I don’t typically care about gender. I know earth’s way behind when it comes to gender equality, especially in this time when they don’t even let women vote.” He explains. “You… don’t think it’s strange?” His voice had gotten quieter.

“Sure I do.” I say truthfully. “This… homosexuality, it sure ain’t anyone here, as far as I know, but I ain’t gonna ridicule you.”

“Thanks. Just… don’t mention it.” He sighs. “To anyone. I’m already a goddamn freak, don’t need to add that to the list.”

I asked him to continue speaking about what had happened before he met us. He explained how him and his brother made it off the planet and killed his sister, destroying his homeworld in the process. He then told me their escape ship was ambushed, and this guy named Thanos was looking for something Loki had stolen. He kinda just stopped speaking for a moment, and then ended with, “and then I got here.”

“Oh good lord.” I sigh. 

“Eh, I’m sure you don’t believe it, but as long it doesn’t affect anything after this we can forget about it.” He slowed his horse. “Is this it?”

“Just about.” I mutter, trotting off to the side. I see him reach into his back pocket and pull out a black bandana and one of his guns. He looks to me.

“So how do you plan on doing this?”

“Same as usual. Cut them off, hold em’ at gunpoint, and if they don’t oblige, shoot.” I say.

“I feel like there’s a better way to do that.” He mutters. I give him a skeptical glance. “I-I mean, it’s not a bad way, but…”

“But what?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He says forcefully.

“Better be.” I say quietly. I tell Loki to walk to the other side of the road, and we wait for the stagecoach to arrive. As soon as I hear the horses cross the river, I motion for him to follow my lead as I walk out of the trees.

“Hands up!” Loki yells under his bandana. We both have our guns pointed at the men up front. There’s four of them, two on horses riding alongside of the stagecoach, where two sit on top.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” The driver demands.

“No one needs to get hurt if you just open up the coach and let my protege take the money.” I threaten calmly. The man next to the driver inhales sharply.

“Are you Dutch Van der Linde?”

Ah, shit. They were probably coming up from Blackwater. “No, who the hell is Van der Linde?” I retort angrily. Unfortunately, I had changed my voice slightly, and they noticed.

“he’s got 10,000 dollars on—“

As soon as he started listing my bounty price, I shot. So did Loki. The horses on the stagecoach whinnied and reared, and the two men on horseback shot back at us. The count reared and ran toward the trees. I shot at one of the men on horseback, but I hit the stagecoach instead. I saw his head explode after a second, and there wasn’t anymore gunshots.

“Loki?”

“I’m alright.” 

He had shot both the men on horseback before I had the chance to kill one. He was already off his horse and checking the lock on the stagecoach.

“These kind’s you have to blow off the doors.” I say, still impressed by his shots. “You got both of them?”

“Yes, I could have done better with knives, though.” He says, still looking at the lock.

“Knives.” I repeat skeptically. “Who the hell is better with knives than a gun?”

“Me.” He replies as I slip off my horse. “Yeah Dutch, me. Do you have a lock breaker?”

“No, I have dynamite.” I say. “Are you going to—“

“No, I can do this…” he looked at his hands for a moment, and took a deep breath. He placed his hands on the lock, and for a moment, it seemed like nothing had happened. Then, he turned his hand, and the door opened.

I looked at him. “How did you do that?”

He removed his hand from the lock, and I could see that the lock was covered in ice. I noticed the tips of his fingers were a cold, frostbitten blue, but it faded away in a second.

“How…” I mutter, as he grabs the money from the coach.

“400 dollars. Not bad.” He hands me the bills and I stow them on my horse. “Are we going back now?”

“Not until you tell me how you did that.” I say.

“Did what?”

“Don’t be stupid, how you turned that lock to ice.” I say.

“‘Claimed abilities’.” He mocks. “Claimed.” He repeats. “I remember telling you that I haven’t lost all my abilities yet. In fact… I’m feeling pretty good.”

“Meaning…” I continue.

“Follow me, I might be able to show you something.”

We mount our horses and he gallops over to Cattail pond, and dismounts. “I can show you some things.”

“like what?” I wasn’t exactly expecting anything, but Loki seemed ready to put on a show. He smirked and brought me over to the edge of the pond.

“What?” I repeated. Loki smirked behind at me, and he jumped into the water. However, before he hit it, there was a flash of green light, and the splash made was one that would have been the equivalent of throwing a fish into the water.

“Loki?”

He had straight up disappeared. I couldn’t make up my mind whether to be concerned or not.

Moments later, I saw an unnaturally green fish jump out from the water. It landed back into the water, and jumped out two more times before it jumped out of water and was about to land on the shore when there was another green flash and Loki reappeared, on his back, lying on the sand.

“Impressive?” He was chuckling as he got on his feet. “What do you really want to watch me turn in to?”

Even if I could describe how speechless I was, I don’t think I’d want to. “You were telling the truth?” My voice was only steady because I had trained myself to keep it that way.

“I told you you wouldn’t believe me.” He says. Suddenly, there’s another flash of green light that travels from his head to toe, and he looks like a completely different person. Or, perhaps, an older version of him if he had grown a mustache— oh, who am I kidding, he turned into me.

“‘ _ We’re going to find out exactly what you need. _ ’” He quoted me, and he even sounded exactly like me, or, I guess he did.

“Is that how my voice really sounds?” I ask. “How do I sound if I yell?”

“This is really what you want to know as soon as you find out I can turn into other people?” He says, smirking. I glare at him. “Just kinda strange.” He says defensively. He turns to me and begins to yell. “Micah, you stay away from Loki and you quit harassing him—“

“Goddamn.” I interrupt. “There were at least four voice cracks in there, that can’t be right—“

Loki shrugs, turns back into himself, and laughs. “Gotta admit, when I think about it, you sound like a pubescent fourteen year old boy with a really deep accent—“

“You say that again and I might strangle you.” I snarl, trying not to laugh and visibly failing. 

He showed me a few other things he could do, like invisibility, a strange ability to conjure a lot of knives, and mind reading. Simple mind reading, literally. He asked me to think of a number, and he guessed right every time. After that, he had exhausted himself, and even after trying for a minute, wasn’t able to guess the number right.

“I think we ought to get back to camp, they’ll be missing me.” I said, leading him back to his horse.

“Oh sure, they’ll be missing you, not me.” He chuckles.

“It’s true.” I shrug. We start to head back, and Loki’s silent for most of the ride.

“You know, it feels kind of weird.” He said as we passed Valentine.

“What does?” I asked.

“Well, the fact that I know I’m female now and I can’t bring myself to change form.”

“I’m not going to even ask what that means.” I say, already confused by the shit he showed me today.

“Of course you won’t, it’s… complicated, even for people in my time.” He mutters. “You’ll see me one day, I won’t change my appearance— I mean, I might occasionally, but mostly I’ll look the same, but I’ll be female and not male.”

“I truly have no idea what you’re saying.” I reply.

“You’ll understand maybe later…

“Sure.”

We head back into camp, and Loki and I hitch our horses and walk back to our tents. I had only just sat down and began to read Evelyn Miller when I heard loud hooves coming from the woods.

“Dutch! Hosea!” I heard Lenny’s voice from outside. He sounded panicked. I left the tent immediately as Miss Grimshaw helped him down from his horse.

“What is it son?” I asked, walking toward him.

“They’ve got Micah in the Sheriff’s in Strawberry… there’s talk of hangin’ him.”

“Here’s hopin’.” I had just noticed Arthur at my shoulder. I should have known— he’s the only one that would have said that.

“Arthur!” I scolded. I turned back to Lenny. “It’s fine, we’ll get him back, just calm down.”

He was breathing rapidly. “It happened so fast, I couldn’t do anything, we were just in there havin’ a drink, and then Micah went off, I think it was someone he knew, but the law showed up and I had to get out of there—“

“Please son, just calm down—“ I turn back to Arthur. “Take Lenny into Valentine, have a drink or something, take his mind off of Micah. Later you can ride down and… you know, break him out.” I explain. “Go on, Lenny needs a break.”

Arthur nods to me and mounts his horse, immediately riding off with Lenny.

“Goddamn…” I mutter, turning back to my tent. I see Loki cast a worried look toward me, and I get an idea in the back of my head.

“Hey, Loki.” I call, walking toward him. “Would you mind going with Arthur to break Micah out? Figure they might need another gun if things get out of hand, and he’s taken to you unlike anyone else.”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Good.” I pat him on his shoulder and return to my tent, finally turning the pages of Evelyn Miller’s book.

The Blackwater Ferry Job was a bitch, but something about Loki’s charisma and enthusiasm made me think that we might be okay…


	6. Part 6 of Chapter 1

Arthur Morgan

The first thing I heard were birds chirping.

I could smell fresh grass, and the dirt on my face. The weather was cool and slightly warm, when I moved my fingers I could feel the cold grass underneath them.

When I took a deep breath, I could smell stale whiskey. I felt bile rise in my throat--

I immediately scrambled to my feet and leaned against a tree. I vomited on the grass, and drooled for a moment. I wiped my mouth and rubbed my eyes.

“Howdy, cowpoke.”

“What the hell happened?”

I try to catch my breath as I lean against the tree. My eyes are wet and blurry, and I blink them a few times before I can see clearly again.

“Micah?” he’s the only person I know who’d call me cowpoke, but alas, it wasn’t him.

“You ok?”

It was Loki. He was sitting atop his horse, looking right fine. It just occurred to me that he couldn’t have been Micah-- Micah was stuck in the Strawberry Jail.

“Goddamn.” I mutter simply. “What happened?”

“How would I know? I wasn’t there.” He shrugged. 

“Where’s Lenny?”

“Found him in the sheriff’s in Valentine. He’s alright. He vomited his guts out and then went back to camp. His mind is now no longer on Micah.”

“It sure as shit should be.” I muttered. I stood against the tree breathing heavily for a few moments.

“Need a ride?” He finally asked.

“Where’s my horse?”

“Back in Valentine.”

I sighed and looked at him seriously. “So you mean to say that you visited valentine and then came back to find me and you didn’t bring me my horse?”

“Well I didn’t know where you’d be.” He starts. “I didn’t want to be leading around your horse for however long it would take me to find you.”

I scowl, and finally leave the shade of the tree. I hop onto the back of Loki’s horse and he rides toward Valentine.

“I guess I should break that son of a bitch out of jail after this, huh?” I say, wanting to cut the tension between me and Loki on this horse.

“Oh, Micah.” Loki slowed down as we approached the Valentine train station. “About that… yesterday, after you left, Dutch said he wanted me to go with you to break him out.”

I immediately leaned to the side to look at him. “This is a one man job, dumbass. You can’t come.”

“Well I wasn’t asking.” He replies, keeping his voice steady. “Dutch said he wanted me to come, so I’m coming.”

I slide off his horse when he stops outside the Saloon. “Well screw Dutch then. You ain’t comin’.” I mount my horse and start to ride off. Unsurprisingly, Loki follows me.

“I’m coming whether you like it or not.” He says. “Dutch said you might need another gun, and you know how Micah’s taken to me unlike anyone else—“

“Strangely, yes.” I sneer. “How do I know you ain’t just makin’ this up?”

“Ask Dutch next time you see him. I’m not lying.” He says through gritted teeth.

“Fine then.” I roll my eyes. Loki rides up next to me, and I look at him. He’s subtly smiling.

“This does not mean that you have my approval. You’re still a goddamn liar.” I say..

He doesn’t say anything, but looks at me with a strange look on his face. “Think of a number.”

“What’s this bullshit?”

“Just do it.”

I sigh, and think of one.

“45.” He says. I’m startled.

“What?”

“65. 84. 92 point 3. Zero.”

“Shit!”

He laughs, and his laugh is unsettlingly similar to Micah’s. “Am I still a goddamn liar?”

“Yes.” I say. “How is guessing numbers helpful in any way?”

“It’s not, but mind reading is.” He says.

“You can’t read minds.” I say, although it was more of a way to deny my shock.

“Wait.” He slows his horse all of a sudden. I do so slightly after.

“What?”

He looks right into my eyes, and closes his. My head starts to hurt slightly, and I bring my hand up to my forehead to soothe it.

When he opens his eyes, They’re glowing dully. “Who’s Mary Linton?”

“Nobody.” I insist. I didn’t want to explain to him anything about her, and that was besides the fact that I still had no idea how he knew about her. “Have you read my letters?”

“No!” He says defensively. “I told you already, I can read minds.”   
“That is impossible.” I snarl. “There’s no way that you can persuade me.”   
“ _ You  _ are impossible.” He retorts. “I can--” He scoffs. There’s a sudden flash of green light, and Loki turns into-- holy shit.

“That is impossible.” Loki mocks me, in my voice and my body. “There’s no way that you can persuade me.”

He wore my clothes and he had my face, except he wasn’t me. I even involuntarily looked down at my hands to make sure I hadn’t turned into someone else.

“How… are you… doing that?” I breathed, looking up at him.

“Magic, asshole.” He says, waving his hands dramatically and rather sarcastically.

“I said, how?” I snarl, becoming increasingly tired of his shit.

“And I said, MAGIC!” He spat.

Without thinking, I pulled my gun out of its holster and pointed it directly at his face.

“YOU THINK I’M PLAYING A GAME, BOY?” I shouted. He had turned back into himself when I pulled the gun on him, and flinched, but didn’t back down.

“Watch your goddamn temper, Morgan.” He spat. His eyes traveled from the hammer to the rifling of my revolver. “You won’t fire that.”

“You think so?” I snarl. “I can burn your body and lie about what happened, and nobody’s gonna miss you.” I say, my voice getting quieter. “‘Some O’driscoll boys shot off his head, Dutch. So sorry about that.’” I recite. “What a shame.”

“But would you be able to live with yourself?” He says.

I actually laugh at this. “This is an outlaw you’re talking to. I’ve done so much worse than this. I’ll forget about it within a year.”

He doesn’t say anything, but puts up his hands and sighs dramatically. “Listen, this is petty… can’t we just break Micah out of this jail, and then we never need to speak to each other again.”

“You know that ain’t gonna happen, we’re going to have to speak with each other if you’re staying. And you are staying, ain’t ‘chu?”

“Of course I am.” He mutters. “Now, are we going?”

I sigh, and holster my gun. “Fine. By now Micah will already be hung, but at least we won’t be sitting around.”

We ride in silence until we reach Strawberry. It was the most tense ride I had ever been on, but I didn’t mind it since Loki didn’t speak. 

When we reach the Sheriff’s, I tell Loki to stay outside, and enter calmly.

“Hey, we don’t have any bounties up, so if that’s what you’re lookin’ for, get lost.”

“Calm down, I just heard somethin’ happened up here. See I’m on the trail of a dangerous gang, the O’driscoll’s.” I improvised.

“Well we took care of it. There’s nothin’ here for you.” The sheriff replied.

“I was just wondering if I could get a description.” I say.

“Well the one of them started it, and the other’s some dumb hick, so maybe them’s your boys.” The deputy said from behind me. I had heard enough, so I thanked them and left the office.

“Let me outta here you maggots!” Was the first thing I heard to my right. Loki had dismounted his horse and was looking toward the voice.

“That’ll be him, alright.” He muttered. I walked down around the jailhouse, Loki following. I saw a window in the basement, lined with bars. Sure enough, I could see two, pale white and bruised hands gripping them. 

“Hello, old friend.” I greet, immediately leaning against the wall. I see Micah’s face bathed in the shadows. He’s got a black eye, his hair is hanging in front of his face, and there’s bruises all over his face and neck. “Had a good time, did ya’?”

he chuckles rather nervously. “You gonna get me outta here?”

I decide to make him worry for fun. “I ain’t decided yet.”

“Real funny, Arthur.” He says as I lean against the wall.

“Oh I ain’t jokin’ cowpoke.” I look back at him and lean down to see his face. “I’ve heard so much bluster out of your mouth these last few months, and now I’ve got an opportunity to watch you be silenced.”

“Well you’ve got to do somethin’ Arthur.” He says. To my pleasure, I can see the worry in his eyes. He looks mighty concerned that I might not help him out.

“Why?”

“I always looked up to you.”

Of all the absurd lies he could have told me, this was the highest of all of them. “Well that’s your first mistake.” I muttered, walking a few feet away. “The problem is there’s a whole town of people wanting to see you hang, and there’s only three of us—“

“Three?” He repeats.

“Oh, hi.” Loki walks over, finally, and waves at Micah timidly.

Micah scoffs. “Why’d you bring him?”

“I didn’t, it was Dutch’s idea.” I say. 

“Why?”

“I dunno, I told him he shouldn’t go, but since he’s Dutch’s special little boy—“

“You’re acting like I can’t hear every word you say about me.” Loki says stiffly. “Are we doing this, or not?”

“I guess we are.” I mutter. I reach inside my satchel and remove a single stick of dynamite from it. 

“Stand back, Micah.” I light the fuse and stand back. Within ten seconds, the wall blows up, and Micah steps through the smoke and debris. Loki tosses him one of his schofield revolvers, and Micah immediately turns around and shoots his cellmate in the face.

“What was that for?” I demand.

“He was an O’driscoll.” He answers. The three of us advance quickly, shooting both the Sheriff and the Deputy in the process. I couldn’t help but notice that Loki had improved in his shooting ability.

“Why are you going that way?” I yell after Micah. He had taken a left instead of a right to the horses. 

“I’ve got some unfinished business here!” He yells back. He’s incredibly trigger happy with the gun, but not as accurate as I would have liked.

“Do a me favor and shoot him, Loki!” I shriek toward him. Micah had gone down yet another road in Strawberry, and I wasn’t leading us out.

“You’re gonna wish you killed me!” Micah screeched from up front. Once the law had been cleared out, Micah ran up to one of the houses and banged aggressively on the door.

“SKINNY!” He yelled. Someone finally opened the door.

“It ain’t ‘Skinny’ Micah, it’s Norman—“ Micah didn’t even let him finish. He shot him in the head and turned back to me. 

“Excuse me Arthur, this’ll only take a minute.” He enters the house and closes the door. Of course, a minute could mean life or death in a jail break, but even if I said that to him Micah wouldn’t care.

“I wish I left him to hang.” I snarl, looking to Loki. He’s reloading his gun quite slowly, rotating the barrel and making sure he doesn’t drop any bullets.

There’s a few grunts, a scream and a gunshot, and Micah comes out, a new gun belt around his waist.

“They had something of mine--” He tosses Loki his second schofield revolver and takes his guns from their holsters. “My guns.”

Before I could even reply to this, he had screamed “I’LL KILL THE WHOLE TOWN IF I HAVE TO!” he had turned down yet another street, shooting like a maniac at the law that had yet again turned up.

“What the hell was that?” I shrieked. He didn’t answer, he was too busy committing mass murder that didn’t need to happen if we had just left five minutes ago. We made our way back to the jailhouse, shooting down two big waves of lawmen. Loki jumped on his horse and took off, I went on mine, and Micah stole a random horse hitched outside the jailhouse. We bolted our way out of town, and turned a sharp corner riding right along the woods.

“They’re bringing in the whole cavalry!” Micah shouts as a group of lawmen on horseback come from the left. I headshot one, Micah wildly and quite luckily shoots one in both the left and right eye, and Loki gets the two others with perfectly placed headshots. 

“Nice shot kid—“ I compliment, when a bullet whizzes past my ear. I decide to focus on the task at hand.

We make it through one more group of four and a small group of two, and after that they either lost us or decided it was a lost cause.

Micah looked back at me when we had lost them. “We better keep riding, make sure there’s no more of them on their tail.” He exhaled sharply. “That was some good shootin’ from the both of ya, gotta hand to you.”

Since we finally had some peace and quiet, I took the chance to question him. “What the hell was that you pulled back there? Making a house call, in the middle of all that?”

“There ain’t much I care about more than those guns.” He answers.

“That much is apparent.” I roll my eyes. “Who was that feller?”

“Skinny?” He confirms. “We used to ride together. Did a bank job down south. Didn’t end well.”

“I saw how it goddamn ended.” I sneer. I hear Loki chuckle quietly behind me.

“He was gonna let me hang.”

“I’m startin’ to wish I had.” I retort.

Micah slows his horse and looks around for a moment. “I reckon they’re gone.” he turns to me as I slow down next to him. “Listen, Morgan, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but we’re together now, and we can’t do nothin’ about it… sons o’ Dutch, makes us brothers. And sometimes…” he coughs. “Brothers make mistakes.”

“That was one hell of a mistake back there.” I snarl.

He forces a laugh. “You’re a funny feller, Morgan. Why you act all sour all the time?”

“Yeah, well you ain’t funny at all, so why you gotta act like the court jester?” I reply.

Micah smiles. “I’m giving you another holster Arthur, if you want, you can visit me up in my camp north of Strawberry--”   
“You’re not going back to camp?” Loki finally speaks. I must say, he’s good at staying quiet when he should.

“Aww, no. I’ve been a bad boy.” Micah finally looks to Loki with a slightly warmer look in his eyes. “I ain’t going back to Dutch until I bring him some sorta peace offering.” He looks back to me. “Both of you, come up to my camp when you feel like it. I have a lead on something, but I need a couple more guns.” Micah’s horse rears. “Bye now.”

Loki rides up from behind me and watches Micah gallop away. He doesn’t say anything, but looks at his revolver and wipes the handle with the bottom of his vest.

“Are you coming with me back to camp?” I ask him. He holsters his gun and looks at me, his face expressionless.

“Sure.” he replies. We ride in silence for a few minutes, until I decide to break the tension.

“You were good back there.”

“I told you I’m not completely worthless.” he says, looking at me again with that expressionless face. “When do you plan on visiting Micah?”

“The more he’s gone the better off this camp is.” I mutter. Loki looks at me with a skeptical expression. “I’ll see him when I see fit.”

“Can you tell me when?”

“I’ll tell you just so you don’t have to be waiting with him for a month for me to show up.” I reply. I’d wanted to ask him something, but I didn’t exactly know how to phrase it…

Loki tilted his head as he looked at me. “What did you want to ask me?”

Once again, this strange ability of his pops up. I didn’t want to pursue the strangeness of it, if it managed to turn into an all out brawl.

“I’ve never seen Micah look at anyone like that.” I comment. “When you asked him why he wouldn’t be coming back to camp. It’s almost like… it’s like…” I knew what I wanted to say, but it didn’t really make any sense.

“It’s like he was looking at a woman.” he answered. That wasn’t exactly what I was thinking about saying, but his answer made more sense.

“I suppose…” I muttered. I tilted my head and looked at him strangely. There was an unreadable look in his eyes.

I tried to take my mind off of that comment. It didn’t make any sense, and I didn’t want to waste my brain power thinking about it. 

When we reached the camp, Loki went straight back to my tent. He had picked up a book and started to read, looking somewhat bored. I went to go chop wood near Pearson’s tent, wondering if Loki was going to get off his ass and do something.

He did, eventually, go off and start talking to Lenny. I watched him for a while, and even ended up seeing Bill threaten Kieran with the gelding tongs again. I didn’t react, in fact, I found that whole ordeal kind of hilarious. Loki apparently didn’t, or he was just strangely attached to Kieran, because he had gotten up and told off Bill. Of course Bill then turned to him and started threatening him, a little less actively, but Loki ignored him and took Kieran by the shoulder over to my tent, while Bill shouted dick-related insults back at them.

In my perspective, it was hilarious. Probably Bill’s too, but Kieran looked outright terrified. Loki comforted him, but secretly I could see him smirk every time Kieran looked down.

At that moment, I noticed something. I liked this boy. He was right, he wasn’t completely useless, and he was better than the rest of us, as far as I knew. Nobody else would have come and comforted Kieran like that, no one would have even dared to show him any affection.

But it was still so strange the way that Micah has taken to him.

When Kieran left, Loki stretched himself, laid across his cot and closed his eyes. He looked so innocent while sleeping.

I returned to my bed and let myself drift to sleep.


	7. Part 7 of Chapter 1

Arthur Morgan

I never have dreams. 

And I don’t mean dreams as in wishes, of course I wish that one day we can stop killing people and take up something more decent, but it’s futile to wish that that day will ever come.

No, I mean visions in your head that your brain comes up with. Now it may seem strange that I know what they are if I’ve never had them, but that’s because I’ve been told about them. 

And that’s why I was really confused when I woke up in one of the Valentine Hotel rooms. The bed I was in was messed up, and I was wearing much different clothes, clothes I had never seen before on any person. They were difficult to describe, but my pants were made of cotton and so was my shirt, and I was wearing a very strange jacket that had a hood and strings to tighten on the front. 

There was a woman looking in the mirror to my right. I didn’t recognize her, but she was wearing normal clothes. My vision was blurry, but when she looked at me, I could tell she was wearing Loki’s clothes… but not in the same way. Her vest was unbuttoned and her breasts were so prominent that her puff tie was tucked in between them. They were pushed together, and her thighs were so thick that her pants were ripping at the seams. 

“Hello, Arthur, would you like something to drink?” She asks me. I saw that her eyes were definitely similar to Loki’s, and she had his same prominent cheekbones and jet-black hair. Her lips were such a dark red that in a certain light a feller would think they were black. 

“Sure.” I reply, wondering what was going on. I sit up and look around. My vision is still blurry, and no matter how many times I blink there’s still a faint blur at the edge of my vision. I feel like I’m seeing colors I’ve never seen before.

The woman turns back to me, holding a glass of water. Only then do I realize how strange she looks. Of course she’s in pants, that’s strange in itself, but her hair looked almost unreal. It was flowing onto her shoulders flawlessly, and her eyes were unsettlingly bright.

But she was astonishingly attractive.

She handed me the glass of water, and I brought it to my lips. I drank it, but I didn’t feel anything. I tried to drink again, but my throat was still dry.

My head suddenly feels very cold, and everything goes weird. The hotel room is barely visible, but I can still see the woman. Her face seems to be transforming. It’s becoming less feminine.

“Get the hell up.” Somebody said.

I brought my hands to my head and sat up slowly. My hair was wet.

“What?”

I blinked a few times and my vision finally went back to normal. I was back in my tent, normal clothes on, and regular Loki was standing over me.

“Go get Sean.” Was the first thing he said.

I stroked my hair again. “Did you… pour water on me?”

“Yeah, you weren’t getting up.” He says. “Dutch wants you to go get Sean. And when you have time, to visit Hosea at Emerald Ranch. I’ll come with you.”

“No, you ain’t comin’.” I snarl, picking up my hat on the table. 

“Dutch said—-“

“Dutch didn’t say shit, ok?” I snap. “I don’t care what he said, you ain’t coming.”

“What if I just want to meet Sean?” He shrugs.

“Oh, you’ll have plenty of time to meet him, I assure you.” I say, walking past him to my horse. He looks at me mount his horse, and he seems to be out of words. I smirk at him as I unhitch my horse, and Loki just flips me.

I head down to Emerald Ranch first. Hosea’s waiting for me with another man by the barn.

“Who’s this?” I interrupt their conversation. The two of them speak for a little bit, and Hosea quickly convinces the guy to give us a little job to do. Apparently the guy Hosea was talking to, Seamus, told us to go rob his cousin by marriage. They had just bought an expensive stagecoach and if we brought it back to him without any trouble, he’d reward us. Handsomely.

On our way to the house, I wanted to speak to Hosea about what went down after the last time I’d seen him. I told him me and Loki broke Micah out of jail and how Loki isn’t too bad at shooting. I was debating whether I should tell him about that dream, but we reach the homestead and I decide to wait.

We wait till night, and I sneak in and steal about 200 dollars in cash, 150 of which was stashed up in the chimney, and 100 dollars worth of items. Hosea grabs the stagecoach and I drive it back to Emerald Ranch.

“Hosea, I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you ever have dreams? Like, while you’re sleeping.” I ask.

“Occasionally, why?” He asked. “I know you don’t have them anyway.”

“I had one last night.”

He looks at me. “And this was a first?”

“I guess. There was a girl in it, she was wearing Loki’s clothes and she kinda looked like him…” 

“That’s strange.” He mutters.

“Ya know, I think it was him.” I say. “It’s like he became a woman or something.”

“That’s not possible.” He mutters.

“It… shouldn’t be possible.” I say. “But Loki’s surprised me. A few times.”

Hosea doesn’t say anything. He’s got that same expression he makes when he’s thinking. We stop back and drop off the coach, and I head straight to Blackwater for Sean. I ride along the lake to keep out of the sight of any Lawmen or Pinkertons on Patrol after the still fairly recent Ferry robbery that we pulled back here.

I take my best guns and meet Javier and Charles. They’re laying on their stomachs, and Javier has his binoculars out, surveying the city of Blackwater.

“How’re we doing?” I ask, laying in between them. “What’s going on down there?”

“There’s Pinkertons everywhere. Trelawny’s gonna be back soon, he’s scoping out where Sean’s last been seen.”

“Hello, Gentleman.” Someone says behind me. It’s Trelawny, and he crouches down behind us. “Apparently they’re taking Sean down river. Ike Skelding’s boys have him and they plan to take him up to a federal prison soon.

“We can’t be breaking anyone out of a federal prison.” I reply. “We either do it now, or… cut him loose.”

“We’re not cutting anyone loose.” Charles says, stowing his binoculars.

“Of course we ain’t.”

I mount my horse with Javier and Trelawny, and Charles rides ahead. We scout out Sean being taken by the bounty hunters through the canyon, and me and Javier go ahead and kill two of the scouts with Trelawny acting as a distraction.

And then, well, there’s nothing else to do but let the inevitable shootout ensue.

Charles Snipes them from the top of the canyon as me and Javier fight our way through multiple waves of bounty hunters including a few on horseback. We meet up with Charles and head out of the canyon, and find ourselves outside the camp with Sean hanging upside-down from a tree.

There’s yet another shootout, where the three of us kill at least twenty more bounty hunters before they all turn tail and I can cut Sean free.

“You know, you’re a lot less ugly from that otha’ angle, Arthur.” Is the first thing the little Irish bastard says to me as I cut him free. 

“Get up.” I ignore him.

“Do I get a hug, Arthur?” He says as he stands up, holding out his arms. “A warm embrace fo’ a lost brotha’ now found?”

I chuckle, and I know the days will be longer with him around. I place my hand on his shoulder. “You know, nothing means more to me than this gang. The bond we share… it’s the most real thing to me. I’d kill for it, I’d happily die for it, but in spite of all that, I’d have easily left you here to rot if Charles hadn’t stopped me.”

“I don’ believe a word of that, Arthur.” He says as Charles drags him toward his horse. “I bet ’chu all missed me, but fear not, the joy is back in your lives now!” Charles had to practically drag Sean onto his horse.

“You coming, Arthur?” Javier ask me as he mounts his horse.

“Nah, I’m gonna see if there’s anything worth taking here.” I say, although it was mostly to save me the pain of hearing Sean yap for the entire way back.

I loot a few of the boxes, but after a while I got unnerved by the lack of law showing up, and leave quickly. I don’t go straight back to camp, but stop at one of Strauss’s loaners to collect Money. I had visited three other people who paid back their loans, and I hated it. I despised it with all my heart. I didn’t mind killing bad people, lawmen, but the desperados that he loans money to make me think about what we actually do. They’re desperate and pathetic and it hurts me to threaten and beat them until they hand over the only few possessions they own.

This guy’s name was Thomas Downes. He owned a very small farm, and I remembered seeing him around Strawberry. He was a dogooder, I saw him with a money box for donating to the poor once down there, and he was the one who told me to stop beating on that guy Tommy, who I had fought outside the saloon the day I met Loki.

He was a downright wreck. He was so in debt that he told me he already owed more than what his house was worth. He was sicker than how I felt beating him, and I couldn’t help but feel utterly disappointed, a little bit in myself, but mostly in Strauss.

This time I rode straight back to camp, and I could almost feel my face light up. The sun was setting, but our camp was alive with happiness. Dutch approached me, and there was a new spring in his step.

“Sean is back! We ought to celebrate this happy occasion.” He told me. “You did well, son.”

“We havin’ a party?”

“Maybe… just a little one.” He smirked. “Go get yourself a drink, you deserve one.”

I didn’t hesitate. I took a beer from outside Dutch’s tent and took a long swig. Sean was giving a very drunk speech from on top of Strauss’s desk, which a few people were watching. One of the people looked back at me, and I could physically feel my heart stop.

It was the same woman from my dream, except this time, I knew it was Loki.


	8. Part 8 of Chapter 1

Loki Laufeyson

Let’s rewind a bit.

In my defense, I was bored as hell and I wanted to shock some people. Maybe even get some action, hell. Not in the daytime though, of course.

I was getting increasingly bored. I made it through one day and Arthur still wasn’t back, when I had an interesting idea on how to keep myself entertained. 

I was still female from yesterday and the day before, and me being the god of mischief, I wanted to keep up that title. I walked behind Arthur’s tent and… well, accentuated my feminine features, I suppose. Apparently I forgot how much I could actually accentuate them because my pants started to rip when my thighs got too big… oh well, I’ll fix them later with either magic or thread, if magic doesn’t cooperate again. 

Everyone’s reactions were mixed. Very mixed. I did my best to make myself look as attractive as humanly possible, or as tempting. Once again, it’s a god of mischief thing. I unbuttoned my vest, rolled up my sleeves higher, unbuttoned a few buttons on my shirt, took the puff tie from underneath my collar and instead tucked it in between my breasts. 

I should just admit, when I looked at myself, I looked much better female than male, and I even made myself drool looking at my reflection.

John saw me first. He pretty much had no words, except he kind of muttered something under his breath, which sounded like. “Holy hell.”

I left from behind Arthur’s tent and went straight to the women’s tents to the left.

“Hello.”

Tilly looked up at me. At the moment she was washing some piece of clothing, but she stopped immediately and gaped. “K-Karen? M-Mary-Beth?”

Karen looked over at me, and she was just about the only one who didn’t have a reaction. “Weren’t you a guy just a minute ago?”

“I might have been.” I comment. Mary-Beth was just looking at me.

“You look better as a lady.” She mentions. “I suppose you weren’t lying when you said you were the god of mischief.”

“I don’t get it.” Tilly murmured. “I just… don’t get it.”

“You wouldn’t, it’s a god of mischief thing.”

Tilly looked back down at her task at hand. “Well if you’re a woman now you should get to work.”

“How sexist.” I mutter under my breath. 

I barely walk two more steps when someone else says something.

“My god.” It’s Susan Grimshaw, and she’s just come up from behind me. “Good lord…” she seems to be short of words. “Turn back into a male, for god’s sake!”

“I can’t, sorry, it’s just a part of me.” I say. 

“Well wear a skirt, this is atrocious.” She barks. “Come with me, I have an extra.”

“Why exactly?” I ask.

“Because your pants are ripped, and no lady would wear pants!” She exclaims.

“Well isn’t that sexis—“

“What in—“ Bill had come over. “Goddamn—“ she had stopped right in his tracks. “Did you— when— just—“

“Do you like me more now?” I ask. It wasn’t even subtle— he very clearly looked at my breasts and then at my crotch.

“Mister— Miss Laufeyson.” Miss Grimshaw repeated herself. “Either fix those pants or wear a skirt, there’s no reality in which you stay like this.

I look down at my pants, and realize that there’s a seam near my crotch that’s ripping very slowly.

“Oh dear.” I use a small bit of magic to sew it. “Better?”

“Is there any way I’d be able to make you do that for all the seams?” She says exasperatedly.

“I’d rather not.” I reply. “Are you just jealous of my thick-ass thighs, Miss Grimshaw?”

She looked like she wanted to pursue the subject of my inappropriate attire, but instead, she huffed angrily and marched away.

I looked back at Bill, who had looked back into my eyes again. He looked half uncomfortable, and half turned on, but he just turned on his heel slowly and walked over to the scout fire.

I sat at the main campfire, where Lenny and Uncle were sitting. Uncle looked up first.

“How drunk do you have to be to see a man as a woman?” He replied. “You ain’t even that ugly.”

“Hilarious. You’re not drunk.” I replied. Lenny looks up from cleaning his gun, and jumps at the sight of me.

“You— how’d you do that?” He asked.

“Magic.” I say again. That’s always my go-to answer.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

Lenny silently shakes his head. “I must be hallucinating, and I thought all the drinks me and Arthur had were gone.”

I roll my eyes.

“What did the devil do to you?” Abigail had walked by. “You better not steal my husband.”

“I will not.” I reply. “He’ll be the one to hit on me if that happens.”

“I know he will, make sure he doesn’t.” She says.

“you’ve…” that was Molly’s voice. She was standing right behind me near the donation box. “Interesting.” She very clearly wanted to comment, but she opted to not give me the pleasure of hearing her opinion. I can see Dutch inside too, and he’s reading intently. 

“Hey Dutch!” It was Hosea. Dutch looked up and set down his book.

“Where’s Arthur?”

“He’s gone to get Sean.” Hosea explained, getting off his horse. “We got a fair amount of money from a stagecoach robbery. See I met a feller down near Emerald Ranch, he’ll take any stagecoaches we rob and need to get rid of.”

“Well how kind of him.” Dutch replies. “You know, this ain’t a half bad situation we’re in. We’ll have young Sean back in just a little bit, and then we can just lie low for a little bit longer, and slowly examine our pickings here.” The both of them had walked around Dutch’s tent were in my easy line of sight.

“It sounds nice, Dutch, but I have a feeling they could find us soon.” Hosea replies. “The Pinkertons.”

“There’s always a chance, but this is a good place we’ve got here, and there’s a good—“ Dutch broke off when he saw me. “Is this what you were talking about?”

I ran my hand through my hair. “Yes.”

Hosea was looking at me, his mouth slightly open. “Why haven’t I seen this before? Dutch, what do you mean ‘was this what you were talking about’?”

“I told him to expect this someday. Didn’t think it would be so soon.” I smirk. I turn to them and straddle the log bench I’m on. “How is it?”

Dutch frowned. “Distracting and confusing, thank you.”

“I see potential, Dutch.” Hosea muttered. “Can you turn into anyone?”

I turn into Dutch again. “Yes sir, I can.” I turn into Arthur, then Hosea, then Micah, then back into myself. “It’s easy enough.”

Hosea’s mouth was hanging slightly open again. “Did I really just see that?”

“You did.” Dutch smirked at Hosea, seemingly looking smug that he knew something Hosea didn’t.

“You’ll know so much about me soon enough.” I say. “Wouldn’t want to show it off in a narcissistic performance though, would I?” 

I had almost forgot that my powers were still malfunctioning, so when Hosea told me to show them off I exhausted them and informed him that I couldn’t keep it up for random periods of time. 

So I guess I’m stuck in this body until my magic works again.

While waiting for Sean to get back, I spoke to Kieran. I helped him with the horses, and he was one of the less surprised folks when it came to my new form. I took a liking to him. He mostly just wanted to work and not talk to me, but when we took occasional breaks he’d tell me a lot about his time with the O’Driscolls and his love for horses. I debated telling him about my unplanned horse child, Sleipnir, whom I once gave birth to in the form of a mare, but I figured that would be oversharing.

I was listening to him talk about the O’Driscolls, when I hear someone yell in an Irish accent from the other side of the clearing, “what’s up, fuckers!”

That was followed by a loud cheer and a lot of footsteps over to whoever had said that. I specifically saw Javier step off his horse, followed by Charles and another guy I didn’t recognize, who had bright red hair and a young face.

Me and Kieran watched Karen and Susan help the new guy off Javier’s horse. He seemed wild, and ready to party. Over all the talk, I saw him say something to Dutch. He smiled and walked over to Bill and John, and told them to get something.

“You too!” He yelled over to me and Kieran. I didn’t really know what he wanted, but I followed Bill anyway.

“Who is that, and what are we doing?” I ask him.

“That’s Sean, and we’re getting the liquor.” He replies immediately. 

“The liquor?” I restate. “Why, and where?”

He walks around one of the wagons and takes a crate of Beer out of it. “We’re throwing a party. Take one and put it somewhere.”

I nod and take a crate of whiskey out of the wagon, putting it near Hosea’s tent. 

I take another look at Sean. Susan’s shoving his clothes into his face, begging him to change out of the clothes that he was already wearing which, I assumed, was what he had been wearing ever since he was captured. Javier was already holding a beer, looking very disgruntled.

“Are you… okay?” I ask him.

“Of course not, you have no idea how utterly—“ Javier had finally looked up, and his eyes went wide. “You’re looking very appetizing, pardon me.”

“That’s the point.” I say. “Sean’s going to notice me like this, wonder what he’ll think when I turn back into a man.”

“Oh, he won’t remember this day.” Javier smirks. “He’ll be blackout drunk by the end of the night.”

“Will he?”

“No doubt.”

I smirk. 

“Who’s the new girl?” I turned around quickly, and Sean was walking toward me, his arms spread wide. “Not going to lie, you’re looking like a snack.”

“Oh, well you’re in for a rude surprise.” I mutter, as Sean wraps his arm around me and sits down on the log. Clearly he didn’t hear me.

“This is a great day, my friend.” He announced. “No doubt it was dull in this camp before I got here.” I barely realized he was talking to me. His hand wrapped around me was inching slowly closer to my ass. I looked over to Javier, who was smirking, looking very pleased with himself as Sean was getting increasingly comfortable sitting next to me.

After a little bit, Karen took Sean from me and led him to the whiskey. That might have been a mistake, but who was I to tell Sean off for downing a bottle in less than a minute.

The sun was starting to set, and Sean was largely settled in. He was giving a drunken speech on top of Strauss’s table when I looked back and saw Arthur looking at me, speechless.

“We need to talk.” Was the first thing he said to me. “Later. For now, this is Sean’s special moment to be back.”

“We could talk now.” I shrug. “I don’t care.”

“Later. When everyone’s thoroughly drunk and I might have a chance of not being overheard.” He pats my shoulder and walks immediately toward the beer.

“Wow.” I mutter. 

The night went on. I helped myself to a bottle of whiskey but found the taste incredibly unsettling, and ended up just putting it back on the table.

Javier was right. By the time the sun had set and the sky was painted with stars, Sean could barely walk straight. Speaking of Javier, I had spoken to him, and he said that the ride back from Blackwater with Sean was the longest ride of his life. Apparently Sean hadn’t stopped talking to take a breath the entire ride back, which I could imagine was true.

A few people had tried to go to bed early, like Tilly and Strauss, but I didn’t even try. It was too entertaining watching the drunken gang members try to sing songs around the campfire. It was, quite literally, earrape. Although Javier was very good at playing the guitar, and he sung spanish songs with the sweetest voice I had ever heard.

I wondered if my whiskey was still sitting where I left it. It was, and I took it back to Arthur’s tent when I thought the night was winding down. It wasn’t, but I didn’t really care.

I took tiny sips of the whiskey to try to keep from tasting the flavor, but my throat still burned. I watched Dutch dance with Molly and Arthur dance with Mary-Beth, which made me feel quite lonely. 

I noticed that I had barely drank two ounces of whiskey when Sean led Karen into John’s tent, the two of them giggling profusely. Arthur had went back and sat on his bed too. It was already after one AM. He didn’t sleep, though, and instead opened a small, leather bound book and began to write in it.

It was kind of awkward for me. I didn’t want to drink any more whiskey. I was already feeling nauseous and I didn’t want to push it. It got even more awkward when I listened to Sean and Karen in the tent, and it became very clear very quickly that they were shagging.

I leaned against Arthur’s wagon and sighed. I could barely take it.

“Hey Arthur?” I ask. 

“Hmm?”   
“Does your tent close like John’s does?”

I can hear him turn around and look at John’s tent. “Are you seriously suggesting that we--”

“No!” I say defensively, turning around quickly. Although when I saw Arthur’s incredibly gorgeous face and fluffy looking hair, I felt a twinge of sexual desire. “No, nothing like that.”

He smirks, almost like he knew what I was thinking about. “About earlier… I do need to ask you something.”

“What?” I reply. I adjust my position so that I’m facing him.

“I had a dream two days ago… and you were in it. You were… in that same outfit. It’s like I predicted the future.”

It’s my turn to smirk. “Really?”

“You offered me water but I couldn’t drink it, and then I woke up. I was wearing these really strange clothes too…”

“Well of course you couldn't drink it. You can’t drink anything in dreams.” I explain.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had dreams. That was the first. Do they all predict the future?” he asks.

I wanted to laugh, but out of respect I didn’t. “I can do things that you can only dream of doing. One of them includes messing with people’s minds in ways that they don’t expect.”

He scowled. “Sure, I’m gonna just pretend I understood what you just said.”

“Good.” I mutter. “Well, I might show you someday, but not now.” I heard Arthur scoff, and go back to writing in that diary of his.

Sean came out of John’s tent, followed shortly after by Karen. Sean looked giddy, but Karen just looked tired and drunk. Sean looked drunk too, but each of them let off a very different drunken vibe.

I poured the rest of my whiskey at the edge of the forest, and set the empty bottle on Arthur’s tent. I lied down on my cot and closed my eyes, but instead of sleeping, my mind wandered to other places instead.

A lot of strange thoughts arose in my mind. What was in Arthur’s diary? Why was Dutch so angry at Colm, and why did everyone treat Kieran so poorly? Why was Arthur always sour toward John? How did Hosea and Dutch become friends? Did Arthur already have a love interest? Maybe I could find out if I read his diary…

Journal, whatever. There’s no way Arthur would let me read it. It would be a death wish to ask him. So maybe I’ll just read it while he’s sleeping…

I resisted the temptation. Maybe another day. I forced my eyes closed and tried to clear my mind again, but it kept finding its way back to other things like Thor. I focused my mind on a beer cork laying a few feet away, and slowly but surely, my mind shut down. 


	9. Part 9 of Chapter 1

Loki Laufeyson

Someone was tapping my shoulder.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty.”

My eyes blinked open slowly, and I saw Arthur’s face in front of me. I felt my face, and from the small bit of stubble on it, I could tell I was male again.

“What is it?” I asked sleepily.

“You’re going to like this.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. “I’ve got a job for you to do. John gave it to me, but I think it’ll be easier for you.”

This peaked my curiosity. “What’s in it for me?”

He chuckles. “Well, I know you’re bored, hungry for action, and if you do this then I might consider letting you come with John and I to rob this train we’ve been eyeing.

“What do I have to do?”

“There’s an oil factory on the way from Valentine to Emerald ranch, I believe it belongs to Leviticus Cornwall. If you can manage to snag an oil wagon from there and bring it to a run-down barn near Dewberry Creek, then we’ll bring you along for a train robbery.”

I was more excited than I let on. “Ok then, consider it done.”

The oil factory on the way from Valentine to Emerald ranch. Belongs to Leviticus Cornwall. Grab an Oil wagon, quick in and out. I kept repeating that to myself as I gathered my things, and mounted my horse. I checked my map and marked a little dot in between Valentine and Emerald Ranch. I had bought the map in the Valentine general store and it showed the roads, but I marked the important locations.

I rode all the way to the oil factory, or more precisely a smaller cliff overlooking the factory. I saw two wagons sitting inside the fence enclosing the factory, I figured maybe impersonating someone, making up some bullshit excuse to take the wagon, and driving off with it was a good enough plan. Maybe I could create a distraction and take the wagon while they were distracted, or I could just straight up go invisible, walk in there, and take it while all of them were confused.

The first option seemed best for me, so I took out my binoculars, studied the uniform that one of the officers had on, and turned into them.

Or, well, tried to, at least.

“Shit. Shit— shit!” I cussed. I focused hard on my powers, but I couldn’t bring myself to conjure an outfit or change my form. This just got a lot harder.

But I couldn’t just let Arthur down, I promised I’d get this wagon. I started to think. If he could have stolen this, then I definitely can. The problem was getting all of the worker’s attention drawn away from the wagon.

I just needed to make some noise, but how? This would have been so much easier with my abilities. 

As I watched a stagecoach inch closer to the factory, I got an idea. I mounted my horse, pulled up my bandana, and galloped down a safe distance away from the back of the stagecoach. I dismounted my horse, told it to run, and sprinted after the wagon. Quietly I climbed into the back of it, and hid myself under a tarp in the back. I was able to see outside from a hole in the wagon.

“What do you got in the back here sir?” I heard one of the officers say when the wagon stopped at the factory.

“Just some food and whatnot, for the workers.” The driver replied. “It’s just me.”

As far as he knew, I thought. I heard some footsteps, and there was a bit of silence.

“You’re good.” Someone said. The wagon had started to move again, which made me exhale in relief. The driver stopped and dismounted. I could tell he was walking toward the back.

Quickly and quietly, I uncovered myself and exited out of the stagecoach. I tiptoed over to a barrel, and crouched behind it. My heart was beating very fast. The Oil wagon was on the other side of the courtyard, up against the fence. Two horses were attached to the wagon, looking bored.

I took a deep breath and checked if anyone was looking, before dashing across the courtyard and taking cover behind the wagon.

I didn’t expect I would get this far. I could still hear my heart beating over the loud sounds that were coming from the factory. I didn’t quite know what was making them.

I shuffled over to the horses and calmed them quickly, making sure no one could see me. I looked around warily, thinking about what I was going to do, and whether or not it was a good idea.

It probably wasn’t, but what the hell.

I slapped one of the horse’s backsides with incredible force. It reared and whinnied as I jumped over the fence and ran like I’ve never ran before.

“What the hell—!” I heard someone shriek. There were no gunshots just yet, but I saw the two horses pulling the oil wagon run straight out of the courtyard. I was on the other side of the fence, so I caught up to them and grabbed the back of the wagon as they ran wildly away from the factory.

Then I heard gunshots.

One bullet whizzed past my ear, but the other ones weren’t nearly as close. I was deathly afraid of the wagon blowing up from the force of a bullet, so I clambered to the front of the wagon and snapped the reins so the horses went even faster. 

I didn’t even know where I was running to. I just wanted to get away from the gunshots, and eventually, I did. They faded away once I got far enough, and I figured it would be okay to slow the horses just a bit. I pulled out my map and found the creek that Arthur wanted me to take the stagecoach. I steered the horses toward it, and parked it outside a run down barn that Arthur had described.

My heartbeat had just begun to slow. I had forgotten that my face had still been covered, so I removed the bandana.

I called for my horse without realizing that I had left it way back at the factory. So instead I took one of the horses attached to the wagon and let the other one free. I took my temporary horse back far enough away from the factory but close enough so that my horse could hear me. I left the temporary one in a forest where the people from the factory won’t be able to find him.

I felt strangely proud of myself as I trotted back to camp with my horse. I just stole a wagon… seemed pretty difficult, I didn’t really know, but I was proud of myself. Something told me I wouldn’t have felt nearly as accomplished if I had used my powers… which made me feel a little strange.

I entered the camp, wanting to tell Arthur that I had gotten it. He wasn’t around, though, so instead I walked up to John, who was cleaning a rifle that already looked pretty clean. 

“Hey, John.” I greet. “I got the thing.”

“What— what thing, I didn’t ask you to do anything.” He replies, sounding slightly disgusted.

“Arthur did. He said to get the oil wagon from the factory since he had other things to do. It’s near the run-down barn near Dewberry Creek, alright?”

John nodded. “Alright, alright.”

“So I’m going with you on the train robbery.” I add quickly.

“What— no, you aren’t.” John says immediately. “I didn’t say that, nobody did—“

“Well Arthur did. He said if I got the wagon he’d let me in on it.” I reply.

“You’re a rookie, and…” he exhales swiftly. “I’m sick and tired of Arthur taking charge of everything. It’s not his goddamn robbery, he didn’t plan it, I did, I should say who goes on it, not him, and if he’s too lazy to go get something himself, that’s his problem, don’t make more problems for me by bringing a rookie along on a train robbery that’s going to be more difficult than he can handle. I don’t want to babysit you, this is not a training ground.” He rubs his eyes, looking exhausted.

“I swear, you will not be babysitting me.” I say determinedly. “I’m good, Arthur knows I’m good, otherwise he wouldn’t have told me that I could come on.”

John sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

“Okay.” I nod my head and turn around toward Arthur’s tent. I wondered what business he had to attend to.

I had just sort of sat around until Arthur returned. He had an unreadable look on his face.

“Come on, we’ve got a long way to ride.” He pulled me up and I followed him to the horses.

“Where are we going?” I ask as I mount my horse.

“A little north of Strawberry. Heard Micah got a lead.”

“Strawberry? But that’s— we’ll be riding all night, Arthur.” I reply as we ride out of camp. “It’s almost eight.”

“I know.” He says. “If we get there early we can just sleep right outside the camp so he can’t see us.”

I purse my lips. “Why not in his camp? Your plan seems unnecessarily over complicated.”

“Why would you ever want to sleep in the same camp as that snake? I mean, I do, regularly, but there’s twenty two other people in said camp.” He says.

“So you’re going to make a camp a mile away from his instead of just staying at his because you don’t like him?” I confirm. I see him nod. “Seems a lot of work.”

“You’re welcome to stay in his camp.” He sneers. “Enjoy your time with that snake.”

“I was a snake once.” I mutter so he can’t hear me. “Anyway, uh, what business did you have to attend to?”

He looks back at me. “Well, I took Jack fishing, met the Pinkertons, and told Dutch about it.”

“That took you the whole day didn’t it?” I say suspiciously.

“Yes.”

“You came from the woods when you approached me today, not from Dutch’s tent.” I say.

“Agh. Yeah, I went to run an errand after.” He mutters.

“And you didn’t feel the need to even tell me that you ran an errand? Must have been a pretty important errand.”

“My life is not you’re goddamn business, okay?” He spat back. “Why’re you so nosy?”

“Just curious.”

We ride in silence until sunrise. At 5 AM, I can just see the sun peek out from above the horizon. Arthur turns up a steep hill, and I see the sun hit his face as he turns to the side.

“Shit, he’s hot.” I say, under my breath. Arthur looks back to me, a confused look on his face. I can feel my cheeks turn pink. He smirks subtly and turns back up the hill.

We turn up around the rocky parts of the hill, and Arthur turns down again and hitches his horse. Right around the corner, I can see a fire and a tent set up.

“Ah, Arthur. Good to see you.” I hear Micah’s voice from around the corner. I dismount my horse and adjust my puff tie again. “Did you bring Laufeyson?”

“I’m right here.” I say. “What are we doing?”

Micah smirks. “I heard, from the O’Driscoll I was sharing a cell with in Strawberry, that there’s a stagecoach that comes by every day near here. Said they’d been hittin’ it on the regular. 

“Is that right?” Arthur replies, a slight hint of apprehension in his voice. 

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Supposed to be lots of money in there, a banking stagecoach—“ Micah starts.

“No, how many guards, people, lookouts?” Arthur lists.

“Not many. Bet we can take ‘em.” Micah says confidently.

“I ain’t quite sure.” Arthur mutters.

Micah raises his eyebrows. “Huh. You ain’t quite sure? I thought you was a tough boy, not some pretty boy trying to protect his riding clothes.”

“It can’t be too hard.” I shrug. “There’s three of us.”

“Ah, fine. But if, say, Loki dies, I’m blaming it on you.” He sneers at Micah. 

Micah chuckles in a sinister way as he gets up and walks over to the horses. When the pair’s back is turned, I roll my eyes.

“If he dies it’s on Micah.” I mock, mounting my horse and riding after them, silently fuming. 

In front of me, Micah and Arthur were already bickering.

“...You’re too safe. You need to roll a little looser, Morgan.”

“Looser? I seen you come full undone more than once before. And you’ve only been riding with us for a few months!” 

“And I’ve earned my keep, haven’t I? And this job ought to get us more money, it’s a pity you’re so skeptical.”

“Well forgive me if I ain’t fully faithful in something an O’Driscoll told you when you was half-drunk in a jail cell!”

“I always thought you was big shadow cast by a tiny tree.” Micah replies.

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means that you’re not as—“ I start.

“Shut up, I didn’t ask you.” Arthur retorts. I purse my lips. “Anyway, you don’t have—“

“Are we robbing this stagecoach or are you going to bicker about it until I run this horse off a cliff and it’ll be both of your faults?” I snap. 

“Guess we’re robbing it.” Arthur says, after a moment of silence. I exhale deeply through my nose. 

In a few minutes, we reach a small overhang, which Micah rides up on and surveys the landscape.

“It should be here soon…” he mutters. He takes out his guns and waits for a few moments.

“There it is. Like clockwork.” Micah smiles at a banking stagecoach that’s coming out of the forest, with a posse of around six riders on horseback.

Micah doesn’t think twice. Next thing I know, he’s pulling up his bandana and screaming, “THIS IS A ROBBERY! STOP THE COACH NOW!”

He’s riding faster than even I rode that oil wagon away from Cornwall’s factory. He’s shooting right up into the air. Arthur’s following behind him.

I pull up my bandana and continue after him. 

“We’re being robbed!” The driver yells.

“STOP THE COACH!”

The gunshots start. One of the horsemen falls dead with four gunshots in his chest. Micah’s work. The second driver falls off the coach with a perfect shot to his head. Arthur’s work. 

I pull back the hammer of my revolver and shoot one of the horsemen. It only barely misses his ear.

I don’t know how Micah does it. He’s managing to shoot a bullet every second, and his reloads take at max five seconds. Arthur’s a practical god with his accuracy.

I get the driver. The coach finally slows, and the rest of the Horsemen are picked off mostly by Arthur and Micah, although I manage to get one.

“Nice job, cowpoke.” Micah says.

“Thank you.” I reply.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” he spat back. I make an annoyed expression when he turns away from me. “That wasn’t that hard.”

Micah stepped off his horse and hoisted himself up onto the stagecoach. He pulled the dead driver and his friend off of the coach as Arthur got on after him. I stepped down off my horse and jumped onto the side of the coach.

As Micah started to drive, Arthur leaned over and looked at me. “Why are we takin’ the stagecoach? Maybe we should just take the money and go, it would be less work.”

“Nah, besides, if we come back to Dutch with a boatload of money and a stagecoach to boot, he can’t say we ain’t pullin’ our weight no more.” Micah replies. Driving a stagecoach wasn’t his strong suit either. I had to cling to the side of the stagecoach in order to not be knocked off the side by a tree.

Micah and Arthur seemed as if they were trying not to bicker. There was a repeater in the stagecoach, which Micah gave to Arthur. He said it was more of his style anyway. It was a lancaster repeater, which I was kind of proud to know. I refrained from saying it, because I was sure Arthur knew, and he’d probably sass me if I informed him.

I was about to stow my gun, before I heard more gunshots from the other side of the stagecoach.

“Great, now we’re bein’ robbed!” I heard Arthur yell. The stagecoach lurched.

“Across the river!”

Micah pulled the horses driving the stagecoach across the shallow river on my left. The stagecoach hit a large rock, and the next thing I know is that I’m being thrown in the air as the stagecoach falls on its side. 

I land in three feet deep water. Its deep enough for me to not break my neck when I land. I get shakily to my feet, running my hands through my soaking hair. My ears are ringing. 

“Goddamn O’Driscolls!” I hear Micah shriek. I hear the sound of a bullet whizzing past my ear, which cuts the strange ringing sound off immediately.

I remember where I am. I immediately scramble to my feet and dive behind a rock. The water is much more shallow here.

I poke my head around the rock and shoot at someone who’s peeking out from behind another rock. I don’t see if it made contact. There were at least twenty O’Driscolls in my line of sight. I could see Arthur reloading his repeater behind a rock on my right. He cocked the gun and pointed it around the rock, closed his right eye, and found his target, which he shot perfectly in between their eyebrows.

“This can’t be hard.” I whispered to myself, watching Micah shoot blindly, occasionally looking around from behind his rock. “Just stay focused, you’re okay.”

Without thinking, I pulled out my repeater and shot at one of the advancing figures. For a moment, it felt like time was going in slow motion. I pulled the trigger, and the man fell. He didn’t get up.

It wasn’t my first time killing someone, I had done so when we got Micah out of jail, and even right before we were ambushed, so I didn’t know why I was so shook for a moment. Perhaps it was just the shock of being thrown off the stagecoach and then shot at a million times.

Together, slowly but surely, we finished them off. I did so without saying much, but Micah and Arthur, on the other hand, had bickered the entire time. I couldn’t even tell how they did it.

“The cowards are running away!” Micah yelled after them. Even though he didn’t need to, he shot after them a few times. “Well, you did good, Morgan.”

Arthur didn’t look pleased. He looked even less pleased after Micah had complimented him. It was as if he found Micah’s compliment insulting simply because it came from him, or that his tone suggested that Arthur wasn’t as skilled as him. “How is it that every job I do with you ends in a pile of dead bodies!” Arthur snaps. When I walk over to him, he pats my shoulder and gives me a “good work, kid.”

“Since when have you got a problem with killin’ O’Driscolls?” Micah replies impatiently.

“Heh, you’ve got a point.” Arthur chuckles. I watch him walk over to one of the O’Driscolls, and opens his overcoat. He pulls out a small bottle and stows it in his satchel.

“Hey Morgan, you gonna open the lockbox? Clearly this thing ain’t going anywhere.”

Arthur takes a deep breath, clearly more at ease. He walks over to Micah, and I survey the river full of O’Driscolls. There's a few spots of blood in the water that are slowly growing bigger. 

I loot a few of them, just like Arthur did, and find a fair amount of supplies. Arthur calls me over, and we split the money. It’s a good sum. Well worth killing a bunch of O’Driscolls.

Micah says he’s going to meet us back at camp. I’ve spent nearly all my time at camp, so I thought to maybe look around, go hunting, fishing, something to take my mind off of all that happened and all that’s currently happening. 

Oh, right, the train robbery. I’ll have to be where I dropped off the oil wagon yesterday by tonight. And that’s really far from where I am now. 

I mount my horse, and ride, fast. 


End file.
